2 to 5 pm
(ok to leave at the break at 3:45 pm)$2 Donation (or as you are
able)

( All sessions
at the Wat Temple, 145 Madison NE, Albuquerque,
New Mexico (Corner of Copper.)

(We're not affiliated with the
Wat.)

For People from any meditation traditions (Tibetan, Zen,
Vipassana, Hindu, Western) or no tradition at all, as well as for people
interested in teachers such as Adyashanti, Eckhart Tolle, Pema Chodron,
Toni Packer, Thich Nhat Hanh, and Krishnamurti.

Explore more deeply what
meditative work is and how it sheds light on
the concerns of our lives, not theoretically,
but from a quiet listening that includes others
and myself.

Meditative work is not theoretical, not goal oriented. It
is the direct entering into a simple, compassionate, open awareness that allows
the myriad fears, clingings and confusions of the mind to be revealed in a
new way and at the same time brings us intimately, undividedly and lovingly
in touch with the wide universe in all its profound stillness.

Facilitated by Jay Cutts. Jay
has attended retreats with Toni Packer for
over 30 years. He meets from time to time with
people from varying backgrounds to clarify
meditative work together.

Reservations, Info, or Join our mailing list:505-281-0684

The New Mexico Center for Meditative Inquiry and Retreat offers monthly
sittings with group dialogue (verbal inquiry) and an annual 7-day silent
meditation retreat in the countryside outside of Albuquerque, New Mexico.
All events are non-traditional in a spirit of direct inquiry, allowing
people to inquire deeply, whether they are working non-traditionally or
working within a tradition such as Zen, Vipassana or Tibetan Buddhism
or other meditation tradition.

More Writings on Meditative Dialogue and the Work
of the NM Center

On Meditative Discussion

We sit for about a half hour and then have an hour for discussion,
followed by another sitting and then a final half hour or so of discussion.

The spirit of the discussion time is, rather than talking "about"
meditation or "about" our lives, to inquire directly
as issues, images, reactions and insights come up, all in a quiet space
of presence that allows us to hear each other and our selves, along
with the simple sounds and movement of life around us and the stillness
that pervades it all.

Talking with each other can bring up many strongly ingrained
memories of the difficulties of our human relationships - power
struggles through using words, fear of sounding stupid and the desire
to say something good, fear of having nothing to say at all, the exhaustion
and confusion of talking and thinking. It also exposes us to mind states
(through things others say) that are hard wired to strong reactions
and aversions in us. In fact, it exposes us to the entire human mind.
In all of this, the deeply ingrained resistance to simply being with
these things can be felt.

This kind of talking and listening takes a different kind of
energy than simple quiet sitting but it also brings us intimately
in touch with the patterns that dominate our lives in a way that quiet
sitting alone may not. This new energy that allows us to be directly
with the flood of reactions moving through the body/mind, brought up
by the talking, without being swept away by it, is the very thing that
is needed to start shedding light on the way we live.

In talking with people and visiting different groups,
I have come to feel that this kind of direct verbal inquiry together
is rather unique. It is a difficult thing to enter into and most discussion
that happpens in groups usually centers on things such as encouragement,
sharing experiences, establishing a theoretical framework for meditative
work, quoting from scriptures, giving strategies and techniques or perhaps
trying to point to what is often called the absolute.

Direct inquiry into an issue, personally entering
into a confusion, concern, a reactivity in presence is a different energy.
The energy of presence then does not want to go off into the usual talking
described above but stays here with the issue and with the breathing
and the sound of the fan and indeed with all life, right here. This
is a shining of light into all corners.

This silent, fresh energy is not always available.
But coming together in a group is a wonderful way that may make it more
accessible. This is the purpose of our meeting, retreating, talking
and inquiring together.

What
is Meditative Work?

I recently read a description of meditation by
Vimala Thakar, an Indian woman who worked with students in
a non-traditional way. She had attended talks by Krishnamurti and was
apparently moved by his way of approaching meditative work and the human
condition.
Vimala Thakar's way of talking about meditative work resonated with
me. I don't have her exact words in front of me but would like to paraphrase
what I got out of her words, and then maybe unfold it a little more.

The impression that I came away with after reading
her words was one of meditation as a simple act of sitting
still and abstaining for a bit from exposure to the usual input into
the nervous system. Taking a little time in which the usual talking
input, social input, hearing input, doing things with the eyes, actively
thinking about something, and purposefully moving the body are all set
aside.

What happens when this quiet time is taken? If a little
bit of time is taken, maybe a half hour or an hour, the body may relax
a little from its built up tensions. The mind may have a chance to process
some of the undigested information that has built up during the day
or during recent days.
If a longer amount of quiet time is taken – two or three days
in a retreat setting – something a little different may happen.
More of the backlog of recent unprocessed mental, emotional, and physical
inputs may have a chance to unravel and be digested. The amazing thing
is that this happens on its own, without the need for a method for doing
it. It isn't the result of focusing the mind, or following the breath,
opening the heart, or any other meditation technique. It just seems
to happen naturally when there is not the usual onslaught of sensory
overload and when the purposeful movement of the body – and of
the mind - is also set aside for long periods. In fact, focusing, counting
the breath, and other intentional activities of the mind seem to dull
or block this natural process of the unravelling of built-up "stuff."

After several days of extended quiet time such as in retreat,
the surface-level backlog of mental and emotional static that has not
been processed may begin to dissipate. The mind may become quiet and
naturally receptive and sensitive. The body may become naturally still
and yet energized, sensitive in its physical way. The body and mind
are able, maybe for the first time in many years, to be alive, alert,
aware. The beauty of life may soak in.

The comment by Vimala Thakar that struck me most was
her pointing out that this state in the last paragraph is not the end
but that at this point something new may take place, something that
may never have had the opportunity to occur. She talked about a deep
healing process that can only begin when all of this preliminary quieting
and opening has had a chance to take place. This very much matches what
retreat work has been for me.
After maybe two or three or four days of retreat, after the body/mind
has quieted down, become sensitive and still, a deeper level of healing
may kick in. It feels as though, with the upper layers of gunk cleared
away for maybe the first time in many years, the light can get through
to deeper, more encrusted layers of old, traumatic, unprocessed residues,
layers of which we are usually not conscious, or which are so closely
wound around our lives that they are taken for granted as natural.

This deeper level of healing may take us into difficult, unknown
territory. The whole process of deep healing is a revolution
in our entire being. There is no place to step back from it and observe.
It engulfs and goes far beyond the "observer." When this healing
begins to take place, some people balk at losing control, being swept
beyond what they know and understand. They may stop going to retreats.
The conscious mind may build very convincing layers of rationalizations
about why retreat is not necessary or why meditation in daily life is
good enough (I'm not saying that everyone who feels that way is rationalizing.)
Maybe it is helpful to hear about the tremendous resistance that may
come up when deep healing begins to move the encrusted structures of
what we have become. Or to put it another way, the pains of being reborn,
moment by moment, into a living, sensitive being – as opposed
to the entrenched, rigid, defensive posture that most humans live in
most of the time – may seem overwhelming.

For many people there is no resistance at all
to the deep healing, when it finally begins to take root. It
may be recognized for what it is - the release of stuff that has to
come out, including the stuff of feeling like an isolated individual.
One goes to retreat again and again, entering into the stillness that
seems to so simply take care of what needs to happen, to heal, to change,
to open, to strengthen.

I don't see that there is any end to this opening, healing,
and resensitizing to life. And all the while that the healing
is going deeper, the sensitivity and openness become wider. Even the
word "wider" is not quite right because there is a quality
that comes up in silence of no boundary anywhere in the vastness of
life. It is all here. Deep healing goes hand in hand with a fundamental
change in being, an unfolding of the natural way of being, which is
so completely different from the picture, the idea, the constricted
feeling of being that most humans live in most of the time. This is
a way of being that is not dominated by a sense of being an individual.
It is a way of being that is an expression of life as a whole. It is
a way of being that is not bound by the feeling of having to defend
something.

Breath by breath, moment by moment, life unfolds fully here
in this open space of silent listening. Unfolding in whatever
way it needs to. Underneath the heavy, enclosed burden of how most of
us humans live is a radically simpler life – a life that leaves
behind the burdens of being a defended, isolated being. But it cannot
unfold – as it so desperately needs to do in humanity - without
regularly being given the time and space and stillness that is meditative
work. Moments here and there for the static of the day to digest. A
few days now and then for more digesting and for a stillness and sensitivity
to come into being. Seven days of retreat regularly for the deep healing
of the human mind to have a chance to function and with it, the rebirth
of undivided life in a human being.

Meditative Dialogue – The Awakening
of Undivided Mind

I want to talk again about the nature of the meditative
discussion – or verbal inquiry – that we engage in during
our monthly sessions and our retreat. It's becoming clearer to me that
in coming together in dialogue, in the stillness of listening and speaking,
what emerges is the functioning of mind that does not belong to one
person. One person says something. Another person responds, or maybe
has a reaction to the first person. Someone else doesn't understand
what these two are talking about and feels irritated or stupid. Someone
else gives advice. But it is becoming clear to me that we are all being
affected by what comes up. We are all swimming in the same pool of thoughts,
feelings, reactions, defenses and sometimes simple listening.

And the amazing thing is that we are also swimming in
the same pool of wisdom. In other words as people speak and listen together,
there is a latent communal wisdom that seems to become activated. I'm
thinking especially of retreat, during which we sit, meet, and talk
together over a period of days. During this time, the undividedness
of listening together becomes more obvious. We begin to live each other's
issues directly, to experience them in our bodies and minds. If one
person talks about self-judgment, we all become more aware of self-judment
and begin to understand the issues, the dynamics, directly, in our bodies
and minds. It is as though we are all working together on each other's
issues and when we come back together, light is shed.

On the one hand this listening together is difficult.
It can bring up many reactions. It can be difficult to follow and understand
what people are saying in the usual way and this can make people feel
uncomfortable or ignorant or that everyone else understands but me.
It can bring up any or all of the resistances that we, on our own, have
learned to repress, ignore, or sidetrack. In this group Presence, we
aren't able to apply those strategies. On the other hand, when this
undivided listening begins to function in a group, there is much greater
pool of energy available for the opening up and healing of self-defensiveness,
of powerful blind patterns, of fundamental fear.

The awakening of this undivided mind functioning through
a group of people is not a common thing. In most groups of people we
are simply a conglomeration of isolated energies, body/minds trying
very hard not to be affected by others. But we ARE affecting each other.
We are reinforcing each other's isolation. We do like groups in which
we have something in common. Then we can feel a small thread of undividedness,
one that is safe. But the moment that something unsafe comes up, we
tend to run. Perhaps there is a deep feeling in most of us that other
people are fundamentally unsafe. And yet, when a group of people begin
to be able to hear each other, to be vulnerable, to really function
as one undivided listening, it is so clear that that is our real nature
and that undivided listening is the key – the only key really
– to the coming to light and healing of our deep internal fears,
anxieties, confusions.

It's not that we have to create undivided mind or develop
it. It is already what is. We are, already, all in the same pool –
one pool of the arising of things and the dying of things – but
we don't notice it. Because we don't notice it, we don't trust it. Because
we don't trust it, we hold back from being vulnerable, influencable,
sensitive. And so we act out our lives as if holding back is the only
way to survive. The dialogue groups, along with one on one meeting,
are a good way, in relation with other people, to start to explore undivided
listening, to see it in operation, to see how it reveals things no matter
how painful and that in being revealed, difficulties heal. To see that
the energy of all life is right here and available to touch our most
difficult darknesses.

This takes a lot of patience. The more chance I have to
sit together with a particular group of people, the more strongly and
smoothly this undivided listening seems to function through us. And
the more love there is between us. It's important to come together in
a discussion structure that allows lots of time for listening and talking
and that doesn't try to prevent difficult things from coming up, and
allows for people to speak honestly from the truth of undivided mind,
shedding light on that which keeps us living darkly and narrowly. It's
also important that we have a chance to do this together again and again,
not to turn away when the discussion gets difficult or insulting or
heady or cliquish or hard to understand. What is it that we trust in
coming back to this again and again? It is not a particular person,
a particular approach, a particular set of beliefs or practices, but
rather we trust that if we go together deeply into what comes up, the
undivided energy of Life will come shining through us, making us transparent
together with light, love, healing, and intelligence. One shining Body
of being.

At first we don't know how to talk or listen in tune with
undivided mind. We trip and fumble over our old ways of talking and
listening. This can be uncomfortable, awkward, frightening, exposed.
At this point many people say, "This group is not for me. This
isn't what I was looking for. I want a group that's safe. I want peace
and harmony. I want practices that will lead me to freedom. I want a
group that I have spiritual beliefs in common with. I want to be with
people who are supportive. We need certain rules to make this group
safe for everyone." Aren't those exactly the old ways and methods?
Why not, gradually, by persisting with it, find our way with listening
freshly and openly? Eventually it becomes clear that life is one mind
and that is what we are. Then it is not a matter of trust. It is a matter
of the living truth, seen, felt, lived right here this moment.

On the Work of the NM Center for Meditative
Inquiry and Retreat

The following is a note sent to a number of spiritual
groups in NM in conjunction with a notice about our annual retreat.
It is an attempt to convey what the work of this center is and how it
is not in conflict with specific kinds of traditions but rather is exploring
directly a way of listening - indeed a way of being - that is not grounded
in memory, tradition, techniques, practices - but arises directly from
life itself. I don't know how successfully this is conveyed below, but
hope it helps give a sense of this work. - Jay, 10/17/07

I know your group has its own traditions and approaches.
You may also have retreats for your members in your own style. I want
to say a word about the intent and style of our retreats because I think
it is important to clarify.

In talking together about meditation - teacher to student,
student to teacher, student to student, teacher to teacher or just person
to person without roles - traditional styles, approaches and techniques
have a certain place in meditative work but I feel strongly that there
is also a living essence of meditative work, meditative communication,
that is not part of tradition, style or technique. It is this living
essence of simple, direct undivided listening to each other and oneself
- out of which may come a completely fresh response or exchange - that
we are exploring here in our monthly meetings and our retreat.

This kind of listening is not easy to do. In talking we
fall, again and again, into giving advice, sharing stories, providing
encouragement. Not that these things are bad. But they often do not
come out of direct listening. This kind of listening is not knowable,
not teachable. It is not a technique. Even for very experienced sitters
and for people in teaching positions, it is a listening that needs to
be entered into without anything to hold onto, hands held high leaping
into the abyss, to be a little dramatic. It is complete vulnerability.
It is certainly not easy.

I've had the opportunity to participate in meditative
dialogue time over many years now at Toni Packer's Springwater Center.
It is helpful to have this opportunity frequently. Without it, it is
difficult to find the way with this direct listening, which requires
a very different kind of engagement than just sitting quietly. One of
the purposes of the NM Center for Meditative Inquiry and Retreat is
to offer this opportunity regularly. For both new and experienced sitters
this brings us directly in touch with our own habits of acting and thinking
in a way that neither silent sitting nor traditional advising does.

I am not talking about a difference in style such as emphasizing
the absolute over the conditioned or vice versa. In this direct listening
the conditional is thoroughly and clearly revealed in vast, open undivided
listening. There is a thorough intertwining of so called absolute and
conditional. We can easily say this in words but to listen in the midst
of the things that people bring up and talk about, the questions people
pose, is not an easy thing.

This kind of work is not in any way that I can see in
conflict with any traditional teachings or practices, I believe, because
it is not presenting an alternate tradition, practice or approach but
simply entering directly into inquiring. The concern here is clarifying
for oneself what meditative work is through bare, honest looking and
questioning, together and alone.

The down side of not offering an approach within a traditional
framework is that it has no "sex appeal" as a long time meditating
friend of mine once said. We certainly don't have a large membership.
The plus side is that we have nothing to lose. People will come or they
won't. There are many places people can go for traditional trappings.
I feel that the role of NM Center for Meditative Inquiry is to discover
and clarify the using of our precious time together in plunging into
the truth of what we are, moment to moment, as directly and honestly
as possible.

I believe that this kind of work is beneficial for people
working in a tradition as well as others. It is beneficial for teachers
as well as students. Is there a fear of becoming confused about meditation,
about enlightenment, about proper techniques? Direct inquiry can only
clarify these things. We have nothing to lose but misconceptions and
our handholds on self-enclosure, and if they go, hallelujah.

Three Foundations for Freedom

Meditative work sheds light on the blind spots that keep us reacting
to what we imagine to be happening in our lives. These blind spots are
old, dark patterns of thinking about ourselves and about others. These
patterns don't correspond to how things really are and so when we act
out of them, we act out of accord with reality. No wonder such actions
cause so much suffering. And every time that action happens out of one
of these patterns, the pattern is reinforced and becomes stronger and
blinder.

Miraculously, there is the possibility at any moment that a pattern
becomes visible, noticeable, for what it is. In such a moment the actual
truth of a situation might also be seen. This is an instant of freedom
from blind reaction and suffering.

I'm considering the question now of what facilitates this kind of seeing,
this freedom. Because our usual life is so dominated by blind patterns,
we can't shed light on the moment through these same old patterns of
thinking, emoting, reacting. When we are thinking in these ways, we
project our blind patterns onto spiritual work itself, making up paths,
practices, goals, hopes, divine forces that we turn to for support.

This is why solitary spiritual activities can easily become blind dead
ends that one can pursue for an entire lifetime. So the person who "wants
to do it themselves" and doesn't want to be disturbed by the feedback
or questioning of others may be digging a very deep hole for themselves.
The hallmark of a blind pattern is that it doesn't want to be disturbed
or questioned. It wants to do things its own way.

Relying too much on group support or an outside "guide" can
also be a projection of blind patterns but it maybe it goes in a more
hopeful direction. Because the dark habits that keep us in erroneous
reaction are blind, we usually cannot see them at all. They are our
very assumptions about ourselves, our lives, others, and spiritual work.
For them to become visible, the space of agendaless looking needs to
open up. This is a stepping outside of the box. It is a stepping out
of all of our spiritual efforts and perspectives.This may be facilitated
by engaging with others.

What facilitates this, in my experience? First, extended retreat time.
This is the primary way that this still, agendaless being and seeing
can begin to wake up in a person. If I had to make a recommendation
to someone who deeply feels the need to wake up to this blind reactive
living, I would say at least one or two seven day retreats a year. In
setting aside our usual activities and being in a supportive open space
with others doing the same, we drift without knowing it into moments
of simple, free being. These moments are so radical in their simplicity
that they transform our whole organism, shaking up the old assumptions
and drawing us more powerfully into presence.

Second, group dialogue is a relatively safe yet powerful way to have
our assumptions brought to light, perhaps questioned or shaken, by listening
to others and by speaking out in public, exposing oneself deliberately
(nervously, bravely?). Without the reflection of hearing others in a
group, it is easy and probably inevitable that habits will forever fool
themselves that they are "making progress". Group dialogue
exposes us bare naked to the human mind in ourselves and others.

Third, one-on-one meeting has much the same function as group dialogue
but reaches a much deeper level of intimacy. One-on-one meeting is with
someone who is able to listen in sustained agendaless presence. This
is the most intimate way in which undivided presence comes alive and
in which the deep blind patterns that usually dominate who we are may
come to light, so that we don't fool ourselves. This intimacy of being
is bottomless, growing ever deeper, in meeting together, not separate.

Blind patterns direct all the available life energy into preventing
themselves from being seen. This is what dominates nearly all humanity
nearly all the time. Can we come together in extended silence, meeting
face to face in a group and one on one vulnerably, with a willingness
to let be seen that which needs to be seen, no matter how scary or humiliating
the prospect?

Actual seeing is not scary or humiliating. It is just seeing. It is
open, free, full of love and understanding. It is the end - for this
moment - of personal concern. It is love that embraces everything.

Here is
a guide to some of the writings below:

For Why Retreat and Deciding on Going
to Retreat, please click to the retreat page.

Writings & Observations

L: If you wanted to write
an article about meditation what types of meditation would you include?

Is it possible to specify a few basic types of meditation?

For example: Buddhist meditation, Yoga meditation etc.

Thanks

Jay: : To me the word meditation has two different
meanings. Meditation can refer to many different mental exercises that have
certain goals. For example, there are mental exercises that can create a sense
of greater energy or focus or clarity. There are other exercises that create
a sense of calmness. For any emotion there is probably some mental exercise
that can increase or decrease that emotion.

I'm sure there are some benefits to these exercises for some
people. It's really not that much different from what we do all day long.
Our brains are continually monitoring the states of the body/mind and moving
us to do things that either change a state of mind or amplify it. For example,
if we feel sad, we might decide to watch a funny movie in order to feel happier.
We can use movies, physical activity, food, drugs, people, nature or biofeedback
to change our states of mind. Many meditations are a form of biofeedback.

To me meditation means something different. It means being in
touch with what is happening in this moment without immediately trying to
change it. It means giving time and space to what is happening right now.
It means listening deeply to the present moment.

Suppose that in sitting still it becomes clear that there is
sadness. It might also be noticed that the instant that the state of mind
is labeled and identified as sadness, there is also the judgment coming up
that I don't want to be in this state and there is the thought of going to
see a movie, for example.

So all of this is visible because there is quiet listening.
At this point I may or may not get up and go to a movie. I might prefer to
stay with the listening for a while because there is some interest in being
more in touch with these feelings that were labeled sadness. Staying with
the feelings themselves, I may find that the heart opens wider or some tension
in the stomach softens and opens up, for example, as part of the process of
listening and feeling what is happening right now in this state that was called
sadness. In listening I find that the label no longer applies. Sadness deeply
experienced is not what I thought it was. In listening whatever is going on
is going on in wholeness.

So if someone says "I want to learn to meditate",
a good question to consider is if there is something that that person wants
to change. Is there some state of mind that they want to stop having or to
change? Is there some state of mind that they want to have more of?

My feeling is that before we spend a lot of time and energy
trying to change our states of mind, it is a very helpful thing to spend time
coming in touch with the state of mind that we are concerned about. For example,
some people want to obtain clarity. The opposite of clarity for them may be
confusion or fuzziness. They want to get rid of one state of mind and obtain
its opposite. So before assuming that this is a good thing to do, it may be
much more helpful to really look into what this "confusion" or "fuzziness"
is and what is behind the feeling of wanting to be rid of it.

On the surface it may seem obvious. "Of course everyone
wants clarity. If you are confused, you can't do anything right." But
this is just a surface observation. It may be perfectly valid at this level
but my feeling is that we really need to understand "confusion"
much more directly, more intimately, more carefully, before making assumptions
about it. What usually happens is that a state such as confusion is recognized,
identified by the brain, and a reaction to it is immediately set into motion.
When this happens, there is not very much time or space to be in touch with
the original feeling.

We can easily spend our entire lives reacting to states or experiences
that we have never really lived deeply. This is exhausting because monitoring
and reaction take a lot of energy. Listening, on the other hand, is a gathering
of energy. But more importantly, in reacting we are making many assumptions
about ourselves and others that on closer examination often prove to be very
inaccurate and often completely untrue or distorted. So our life becomes more
and more difficult and painful because we simply don't see what's really happening.
We haven't examined our life carefully as it unfolds moment by moment.

The remedy for this is simple. To become present with the truth
of each moment. There are no tricks or strategies or techniques for doing
this. It simply requires a wholehearted interest in this moment. Everything
follows from this.

The Difference Between
Advice/Inspiration and Inquiry

Recently I saw an ad for a several day conference that brought
together many different spiritual teachers giving talks and holding discussions.
This brought up something for me.

For a long time I've had a concern about the place for advice
and inspiration in meditative work. Sometimes advice and inspiration can be
just the right thing. But in my observation there is also a time when advice
and inspiration - in the midst of a moment in which someone is going through
something - can short circuit being directly in touch with what's going on.

So suppose someone brings up being really tired of feeling so
negative. Consider what happens if someone responds that the Buddha went through
the exact same thing and if you keep following your breath, some day you'll
be over it (and possibly become a revered world teacher.) Or someone might
recommend that the person practice compassion. I'm not saying these might
not be good thingas to say to someone who's really down at that moment but
it does kind of stop the inquiry of that moment. The mind begins to move into
the future and hope for things to get better. Not saying that's bad but it's
different from what I'd like to flesh out in the next paragraph.

Compare that with someone saying, "Could you say a little
more about what being negative is for you?" Let's assume that the person
says that because they are also really interested in the issue of being negative,
having experienced it in themselves and having seen it in others and how much
suffering it can cause, and they really want to open up the issue together.
So this interest is "catchy" and the person who first brought up
the issue is now invited to listen deeply and caringly to what has come up
in them.

Now instead of sticking to advice, a plan, encouragement, inspiration,
the mind begins to move in a live, dynamic way. It begins to open with interest
and affection and intelligence. This doesn't mean that the issue is "solved"
necessarily. Just that the mind begins to come awake because there is a real
interest to be in touch, no matter what comes up.

The fact that another person is interested makes a huge difference,
I've found. This is the essence of both one on one meeting and group inquiry.
Listening together brings more awakeness to what is happening. There may even
be a deep insight into an issue that comes out in one person or another. This
kind of inquiry also brings up deeper questions that lead to even deeper inquiry.
It's a wonderful, alive, awake working of undivided Presence, in which we
are all in it together.

So this all came up because a lot of spiritual talk ends up
being either theoretical or advice or inspiration. It's natural that this
would happen because we all very much love inspiration and advice, so people
speaking to a group get richly reinforced for being inspirational. Who could
resist the smiles and joy on the faces of inspired people? And yet I personally
find it a little draining to listen to too much of it. I long for direct inquiry
together.

Devoting Attention to What
Most Needs Attention

What do we give attention to in our daily lives? This is a poignant
question to raise and then watch and see. What am I concerned with as I move
through the day, moment by moment? What are the concerns that I give attention
to most in my life month after month, year after year, decade after decade?
What is my energy most spent thinking about - trying to change, or trying
to accept?

For any issue that usually grabs my attention, have I ever considered
carefully what is behind my concern? What are the assumptions that I'm making,
the things taken for granted? Have I looked carefully at whether my efforts
are really leading to something beneficial?

At first, looking back over the last paragraph, this sounds
like a difficult analytical thing to do. But that's not how it works, at least
for me, in my experience. For me the whole body/mind - filled with a seemingly
infinite number of programmed assumptions, agendas, identities, reactions,
wants, avoidances that can be triggered at any moment or that can be on hold,
watching carefully for a moment in which it needs to start up again - needs
to be given the space to reveal itself, to open. And this is something that
is simple and direct and whole, not piecemeal.

One thing that our attention is often devoted to is the feeling
- in the back of the mind as we move through the day - that despite the chaos,
the old patterns, the physical feelings of conflict or inadequacy, the dryness,
the underlying sense of isolation and desire for contact, we've got some kind
of plan or hope that will change all of this. Does this function in you too?
"Ok, things are bla bla bla but I'm going to do this, or such and such
will happen some day." And what is the function of that kind of thinking?
Does it lead to real looking at what I'm doing this moment, and why, and in
what context, and with whom or does it lead to a sort of complacency. "Don't
worry too much."

A plan or a hope is always in the future. "Some day..."
What is it that we are putting off by thinking "Some day. Not now because...
but some day."

I certainly understand the feeling that many people share that
retreat is not so important because they are interested in change in their
daily life. They may say that they know that retreat sheds some light but
because daily life is their focus, they'll just stick with that. But what
am I devoting my attention to in what we're calling daily life?

If we stop feeding our regular agendas, they will die away.
Maybe just for a moment. In daily life, what am I feeding? I feel like it
is very difficult to answer this question without stepping away from the whole
daily life routine. Agendas, of course, scream "No! You can't step out
of this routine. I can't step out of it. I have to do this, and this and this.
I have to take care of this and this and this. I'm worried about this and
this and this that I don't know if I can handle."

There is no point to fighting agendas because, like small children
and like all of us, they have to be heard and addressed with love and intelligence.
So it's possible to address concerns about food in retreat, or sleeping accommodations,
or taking time to go home and take care of pets. All our concerns can be addressed
and worked out. I'm very confident of that. So then it's possible to leave
them behind and spend a week in an open, safe, lovely natural setting, where
everything is taken care of and where we have the vast support of each other
and the whole of life.

Such a week is a dramatic eye opener. For the first time we
can start to see the difference between living in undivided affection and
being wracked by unexamined agendas, unexamined selves. So it's true that
we have to get out of the "problem" to see clearly what is going
on.

What all of our concerns don't understand is that when they
die away, when we stop feeding them, the whole world opens up and the root
of a concern is healed in wholeness. So we kick and scream against leaving
the world of our daily concerns. We have a million valid reasons. We have
a plan for the future. But if that plan doesn't involve stepping out, stepping
back, giving a week to devote attention to what most needs attention, how
can their be fresh seeing?

What is it that most needs attention? What is it, right here,
under our noses, buried in the routines and hard held agendas of our lives?
What is it that we most need to wake up to?

A Different Mind and Body

For most of us there is usually some agenda operating in the
psyche. By agenda I mean something like that there is a sense of something
I need to do in order to protect something that is important to me. We are
so used to operating from agendas that we don't see them as such. And yet
sometimes there's the feeling that something is pushing me or bugging me,
something that won't quite let go. Or there is a noticing that the mind is
going around and around in the same thoughts, exhausting itself but not quitting.
There can also be the feeling of just being exhausted and wanting to give
up but not knowing what it is that has been driving me or what I'm so disappointed
in not being able to get.

Even in quiet moments of reading, watching a movie, "hanging
out" there is much of the time the buzz of random agendas checking in,
thoughts running unheard in the back of the mind while the consciousness is
distracted. I'm also thinking of dialogue, in which we are hoping to shed
light for each other but most of the time what we hear and say reflects unseen
agendas, such as wanting to be accepted in the group, not wanting to sound
stupid, wanting to reinforce a belief that there is some spiritual activity
we can do to become better meditators, wanting to maintain a certain feeling
of equanimity and not fall into confusion or anxiety, and so on and so on.

Very occassionally, perhaps very rarely, there is a giving up
of all the agendas, a dying to them. This may happen in the presence of something
overwhelmingly beautiful. It may also happen in dark despair when there is
no hope left and hope dies away, and with it all agenda. As little children
we fell into this state often, naturally, because dropping of the filters
of agenda allows the beautiful world to be seen, felt, experienced, lived.
So the person coming across something amazingly beautiful lets go of all the
enclosing agendas and opens totally in order to drink in what is all around
them. Similarly, the person in dark despair who finds all agenda, all hope,
dropping away, suddenly finds that they are the whole world. When agenda is
gone, everything is here but we have lost the ability to live this way. This
latter happened to Eckhart Tolle. On the brink of suicide all agenda dropped
away and he found himself amazingly and mysteriously alive and boundless.

We long for this faintly remembered existence of undivided aliveness
and yet we deeply trust the concepts and assumptions of our agendas, which
are numberless. And so through our agendas we try to find a way out of agenda.
A person may believe deeply that personal hard work is the key to everything
and so they apply this to spiritual work by working very hard at their meditation.
Another person may believe that the most important thing is certain feelings
of happiness and so they avoid all experiences that might diminish their feeling
of calm or peace.

With careful listening and talking together and a great deal
of time devoted to extended meditative time, we might begin to discover agendas
in ourselves and not be fooled by them. Agendas are not "bad". They
just operate darkly so that there is no intelligence guiding when the agenda
needs to function and when it is getting in the way.

When we become interested in discovering these agendas in ourselves,
Presence is already operating. I have to take at least a small step back away
from an agenda for it to become visible. In fact it is always Presence that
is operating because there is nothing else. But one aspect of this undivided
energy of life is the ability to create a sense of a divided inner world and
this strange energy blocks out the direct experiencing of what we are. This
"inner world" thinking makes the mind operate in a strange, enclosed
mode such that the mind does not want to be seen. It wants to hide itself.
Such a mind operates darkly, suspciously or naively, in a confused way, trying
to impose patterns onto a world that has nothing to do with those patterns.
Such a mind is opaque to insight, thick to anything new, largely unable to
perceive the feelings of others correctly or sometimes even to understand
that others have feelings. Of course things are not always as dark as this
for us, fortunately. We often work at being loving, caring, understanding,
intelligent. But interestingly this is usually experienced as effort, feeling
as though love stands in opposition to something else.

At the same time, this kind of thinking affects the body and
nervous system, making the body feel tight and conflicted, as though it were
battling itself. It ties up the arms and legs, the gut, the eyes, so that
we walk and talk and move in increasingly crippled ways as we get older. Eckhart
Tolle refers to this as the pain body.

But in a moment when all agenda has let up its grip and the
mind is dwelling in Presence, this strange, non-productive mind and body drop
away as well, and there is a feeling of freedom and naturalness in the body
and the mind operates with an all encompassing love and intelligence because
it sees everything as not separate from what it is. This is effortless compassion
and effortless intelligence. It is a different mind and a different body.

We can't monitor whether or not we're being agendaless. Monitoring
is an agenda and requires the mind dividing itself into an evaluator and the
evaluated. So it's a relief to stop monitoring whether we're in Presence.
We can, though, become interested in noticing our agendas - how much fear
we have around being seen in certain ways, how much anxiety we have about
ourselves, how tight we become in trying to attain our professional goals
or establish a safe-feeling environment, how little we're able to hear the
human difficulties expressed by people around us. Presence actually opens
in us by surprise. When there is interest and I really feel that it is more
important to get in touch with what a jerk I've been than to make myself look
like I've got it together, then I've dropped agenda (protecting myself) in
favor of simple Truth. That is effortless.

As agenda after agenda becomes exposed, it probably becomes
easier and easier for concern about ourselves to die away so that this simple
moment here - regardless of what is revealed in it - can shine. In such moments
this different body and mind operate naturally, easily, effortlessly, in vast
space, not belonging to anyone at all.

As always, these comments are meant to invite your response,
disagreement, inquiry.

The Power of Working Together

Last week I wrote some reflections on One Mind and the importance
of discovering for oneself that when the mind’s self-centric filters
drop away, the world really is one undivided energy, which is what we are
and which is not born and does not die.

That wasn’t actually what I started to write about last
week, but that’s what came out, maybe to set the stage for what I had
intended to write. But first I want to say more about my comment that healing
does not happen fully unless there is a moment of undivided presence. What
I mean is that as long as a self-centric filter or pattern is operating, everything
that happens reinforces that pattern. Every moment that the pattern is running
is a moment that strengthens the pattern. So in ordinary (partial) healing
there can be a wonderful release and freeing of certain patterns but at the
same time the fundamental pattern of separation is reinforced.

In a simple moment of undivided presence the pattern of self-enclosure
is – for once – not reinforced. The more extended the moments
of openness, the more the patterns of self-enclosure weaken. In such moments
everything that happens is healing. It’s like taking the lid off of
a container under pressure. The nervous system can’t help but heal and
the healing is full.

Like all of these writings, you are welcome to bring this up
if you see it differently. Together we are more likely to come to the truth.
And that brings us to what I had wanted to say last week.

I find that there is a tremendous power in coming together to
talk/inquire/dialogue, either in a group or one on one. Something happens
that does not necessarily happen in sitting alone or in sitting in a group
without inquiry.

When we have a chance to talk together, not just once but many
times, there seems to be what we might call a waking up of the group mind.
In hearing each other and beginning to understand each other there seems to
be a new energy of listening, of inquiry, of discovery, of healing, that does
not belong to any one person’s mind. It is a shared energy. It’s
a manifestation of this undivided Presence that begins to work through us,
not just individually but together when we have the opportunity to inquiry
one on one and as a group.

This group listening seems to magnify the energy of undivided
listening, to make it more available. It makes it more possible that a moment
of openness, even if brief, may take place for someone, along with the tremendous
power of healing that comes with such a moment.

It is the antithesis of isolation, in which, out of fear of
something, we may go around in circles forever in our own ideas, trying to
depend on doing “it” alone.

I invite everyone to experiment with participating in our group
and one on one inquiry.

One Mind

The radical truth of Presence is that the entirety of being
is just one energy – one mind, one heart, we could say. Of course, this
is not how we perceive things for the most part. The senses and the reactive
mind create a strong impression that the world is broken up into billions
of separate phenomena and that “I” stand as something separate
from all of it.

In a moment in which the filters of the brain drop away, it
might become suddenly clear that life is undivided and that I am nothing other
than that. In such a moment it is also clear that this undivided field of
energy is not a perspective, a frame of mind, or an attitude to be practiced.
It is what is visible when perspective, frames of mind and attitudes are not
in play. It’s what the movie screen is when there is no movie being
played, yet not a blank nothings but rather a vast living space undivided
and full of love.

Everyone has woken up to moments of this undivided Presence.
But for most of us those moments are rare, long past memories that on some
level pull us in our lives, but only vaguely and blindly. When we take time
to shift our focus from the details of what we think our life is to simple
being, there is a chance that our being may wake up to its real nature –
undivided life. By taking time, I am thinking primarily of regular retreat
of 5-7 days. While daily or weekly sitting is helpful, it rarely offers enough
time for this waking up to happen.

Waking up to undivided Presence – to wholeness –
has a radical and profound effect on a person. While it is true that Presence
is always functioning in us, it is only in a deep moment of having woken up
to it that we finally see what we are.

One person recently reported coming upon such a moment. As her
mind suddenly turned 180 degrees into absolute stillness, she found herself
entering deeply into the multitude of issues that had been plaguing her and
discovered that in this undivided Presence they began to heal.

It is clear to me that true healing and true peace only take
place when there is a deeply rooted living in undivided Presence. The notion
of gradual spiritual progress is a mistaken belief in which one can stay busy
for an entire lifetime and which keeps one from ever finding the truth of
what one is.

Listening into the depths of one’s being, we may hear
the echoes and memories of moments of oneness and love. We only need to devote
extended time to putting aside the elements of our divided life and sitting
silently, without knowing, without trying to become something. Just listening,
present, vulnerable, come what may. If one devotes oneself to this –
one, two, three retreats a year or more – for five, ten, or more years
– there will be an opening to wholeness when we are ripe enough. And
this opening will not be fleeting. It will be enduring and stable and will
allow –for the first time – real healing to happen. And with it
a bottomless flow of love and intelligence.

I’ve made some strong assertions here. You may disagree
with what I’ve said. I may not have put things very clearly. Let’s
talk together. This issue of wakening directly to undivided Presence is critical.
I would be doing a great disservice to reinforce the perception that there
can be a gradual development of well being without it.

On Healing

N: Hi. I'm hoping that you know a few things
about crystals. I know many people use them for meditation. I have never used
crystals before so I don't know much about them. I just bought two crystal
chips bracelets. One of them has both amethyst and rose quartz on it. The
other one is clear quartz. I know that, especially when wearing clear quarts,
it is important to have good energy. From what I have read, it magnifies the
vibrations you give out, whether they are positive or negative. So it is important
to me that I am prepared for the crystals before wearing them. What I want
to know is, is there anything that I must do before wearing all three crystals?
Maybe something to clear my aura of negative energy? I would appreciate any
information you might have. Thank you for your time.

Jay: I don't really know anything about crystals.
They're pretty.

I'm wondering what you are hoping they will do for you. Maybe
they have some kind of healing power. But then I wonder what it is that you
are hoping to heal in yourself.

So the interesting thing you are saying is that if there is
some negative energy in yourself that you are trying to heal, the crystals
might actually make it worse and you don't want to inflict negative energy
on yourself or on other people.

I wonder what you mean by negative energy. Maybe something like
anger, fear, self-doubt. To me these energies require listening to. Being
in touch more deeply, more carefully with them. If it becomes possible to
be still and in touch with all of the workings of anger - the thoughts going
around and around, the painful feelings in the body, the underlying feeling
of having been threatened, the sense of vulnerability underneath being threatened,
the sensitivity that is underneath the vulnerability - then I can't really
say that such a thing is negative. It is just the energy of being expressing
itself in certain ways that we may never have been carefully in touch with
before.

Being open to whatever is happening inside is itself positive,
no matter what the internal energies and emotions might seem to be. If a crystal
encourages this, then fine. In reality, ALL of life encourages this. A simple
breeze, the warm sun - these things open us up. A cold wind, a storm, angry
words - these things also open us up in different ways. But usually we're
not in touch with the simple things around us that are trying to help us open.
We're usually going around and around in our thoughts and emotions and don't
notice where we are or what is touching us. And part of that blind, separated,
enclosed thought-emotion world is the thought "How do I fix this?"

If I just become a little more interested in where I am at this
unique moment, then everything seems to help me open up and be in touch.

I don't know if that addresses your concern. Feel free to write
back if you have some questions or comments.

Beginning
Meditation

KP: I have a
deep interest in practicing meditation. Well,
to be honest, I am just a beginner. I saw some
online instructional videos on Youtube about
Zazen and, tried to practice it by counting
the breath 1 to 10 (so on)..but, I am not sure
I am doing it right. My mind wanders a lot
during this. I have tried to find a good instructor
to teach me meditation- but, unfortunately
I could not find any. Can you please help me
out by telling me how I can practice meditation
by myself.And, which meditation would be best
for me? (Sorry, I do not know much about differentiation
of meditations)

Also, I would like to tell you
that sometimes in my life, I get sad, scared
and disheartened, so I want to overcome these
weaknesses through meditation.

Thanks.

Jay: There are many different
ways that different people talk about meditation
- a lot of advice and suggestions, practices
and techniques for achieving various things.

Let's take a simpler look at
it. In our normal way of moving through life,
we are often not able to notice very much.
We move quickly. We react. We may even get
confused. But we don't understand what is happening
to us because we are going to fast and don't
have enough subtlety of listening.

So if I want to understand myself
- the sadness or depression or the hope for
something better - it is necessary to slow
down and listen more carefully. The easiest
way to do this is to sit still.

When I say "listen"
more carefully, I am including listening with
the eyes, nose, skin, body, heart, mind, as
well as the ears. You could also call it seeing
or presence or attention. It is being awake
to what is going on at this unique moment.

In case you are worried that
you aren't doing this correctly, it is certainly
true that you are the only one who can find
your way into this current moment. Or maybe
it is better to say that all that is needed
is for this moment to find its way into you.
This is a very simple thing. The current moment
is here. How can you miss it?

Don't worry about the state of
your mind, whether there are lots of thoughts
or there are few thoughts. Whether you feel
happy, strong, sad, or scared. It doesn't matter
at all what comes up, what is seen. The only
important thing is the fact of seeing itself.
The space of seeing/hearing/feeling. Can you
trust this - that it doesn't matter what the
content of the mind is. It is only important
that what is going on is seen openly, acceptingly,
caringly, without needing to change it or fix
it at all.

This is a radical thing because
almost immediately when we become aware - in
a simple moment of listening - that there is
a negative state of mind, the mind reacts and
judges it, wants to get rid of it, to fix it,
to come up with a grand plan for the future
to become better. In all of this reacting,
the simple moment of seeing is covered over
with confusion and effort and difficulty. This
reacting can also be seen as it starts to operate.

The more that is seen, the more
intelligence and compassion begins to operate
in our lives.

So maybe you can see that nothing
special is required to sit down and listen
to what is going on. Anyone can do this immediately.
It doesn't matter that what is going on is
wandering thoughts or sadness. It is true that
when the mind is lost in daydreams, nothing
else is really seen. But when the mind is lost
in daydreams, there is no one there to do anything
about it!! Then in a sudden moment the mind
wakes up and it's clear that daydreaming was
going on. In that moment the daydreaming is
over, so there is no need to thing, how do
I keep myself from daydreaming. I've been meditating
for 40 years and I can say there is no way
to keep myself from daydreaming! But there
is always a waking up that happens by itself.

The mind daydreams a lot when
it is tired and needs rest and when it has
a lot of experience that it has not had quiet
time to process. If you would like a little
more wakefulness, then give the mind a little
more quiet time so that it can do what it needs
to do. When it is rested, it will wake up.

I hope you will not feel like
trying too hard to overcome sadness, fear,
depression. It is a lot of work and can make
you tired, sad, fearful, and depressed!! Rather,
simply get to know what these feelings really
are. You may say that you know that you know
them too well and would rather get rid of them.
However, it is unlikely that you know them
well enough. If you really understood these
things at the root, they would not be a problem
for you. I don't mean psychological understanding.
I mean watching yourself when these feelings
come up. Be carefully in touch with your reactions
to the feelings, with the thoughts that go
with them, with what brings the feelings up,
when the feelings start to fade away, and what
keeps them going further.

It takes very patient listening
to come to know these things, which means coming
to know more deeply what I am. It may take
years of listening for these feelings to unfold.
Or it may not take any time at all. Listening
means without knowing, without looking for
some answer. It is listening in the way that
a mother sits very, very still holding her
baby in her arms while the baby gets the sleep
that it so much needs.

So when you feel sad, you can
listen and wonder. What is it that's really
going on? If I don't label this experience
right now with the word sad, what is it really?
There is breathing going on, maybe shallow,
maybe deep. There is a warm feeling in the
eyes. Maybe a feeling of some kind in the chest.
Some sounds from around me. The feel of air
on the skin. All of this is going on without
a label. What part of this is sadness? I don't
know.

Listening opens us ever more
deeply to what we are. A story is coming to
mind. A man lives near the ocean and every
day he looks out at the ocean and sees, far
out in the water, a patch of darkness. He begins
to worry about this patch of darkness. It depresses
him and worries him. It is there almost every
day. It seems to spoil the beauty of the ocean.
He wants to know how to get rid of it. So he
finds a boat and rows himself out into the
ocean where the dark spot is. He studies it
up close. He thinks about it. He worries more.
He feels that he knows this dark spot because
he has studied it but something is still worrying
him. Then one day he rows out to the dark spot
and leans over to examine it but he falls into
the water! As he sinks under the surface, he
looks up and sees the sun shining through the
dark spot and lighting up the ocean all around
him with amazing beauty. Once he gets back
to the boat and to his home, he doesn't worry
about the dark spot again. He had seen!
only the surface before but now he has entered
into the depths. Instead of being concerned
about the spot, he now knows the ocean itself.

So simple listening is actually
profound. It doesn't bother too much with what
is seen but it shines light on everything.

I hope that helps for now. Feel
free to write back if you have questions.

KP: Thanks for
your wonderful reply.

Let me explain you about my thoughts-
well, due to some job and personal life related
insecurities, I feel scared of my future. I
know nothing has happened so far. To me, this
is like an anticipation of the “bad”
which have not happened yet. It comes to me,
when I am free.

I really like your suggestion
about listening and embracing your thoughts
without labeling them with the terms- Sad/Happy.
And, if I got it right what you said, in my
situation I should just observe the root cause
of these thoughts and, just let them go without
caring/ reacting to them? Am I right? Please
clarify me if I got it wrong.

Also, Can you please suggest
me a proper meditation method that I could
follow daily? I am a person who likes to have
a methodology for anything I do. It makes me
feel confident.

Thanks and Regards

Jay: Methodology does create
a certain sense of safety or comfort. It is
good for many things in life where we have
to be in control. But for the simple energy
of Presence - of being in touch with all of
life - methodology doesn't really help.

You don't have to believe me
when I say this. It's better for you to experiment
with this for yourself. Part of our fear is
the fear of not having a safe methodology that
we can trust. In fact, this might be a good
fear because for much of life, having a known
approach is not the best way but we have forgotten
what knew as a small baby - how to live life
spontaneously in touch each moment.

So sitting quietly in meditation
is a chance to relearn what it is to just be
alive and in touch. If you experiment, you
may find that if you apply a methodology, such
as counting the breath, and then you let go
of that methodology for a moment, that when
you let go of it, you are more aware of what
is going on around you. When you apply the
counting, your attention narrows down to the
counting.

I can't say which way is best.
You have to find out for yourself what it is
like to focus on something like counting and
what it is like to let go of focusing. You
may find that one way feels comfortable because
it is "known", familiar. The other
way may feel uncomfortable because there is
no strategy to hold on to and it feels unknown.
So it is for you to find out for yourself what
the unknown really is.

You described the insecurities
that you feel about your job and life situation
and your fear of the future. It's true that
this is based on things that haven't actually
happened yet. You might examine this to see
if part of your fear is of the unknown. When
we start to sense the whole area of the unknown
- such as thinking about the future - we get
afraid. We have no control over the unknown.
But we usually do not really experience the
unknown for what it is right now. It is simply
the realm of existence that includes but goes
far beyond what we can put in words and what
we can control. I'm not talking about something
mystical. It is really very ordinary. For example,
if you see a flower some time, you can see
that there are some things you know about it.
Maybe you know what it's called, how to grow
it, where you can buy one. But then if you
just stop and look at it, smell it, feel it,
sense the ground that it's growing in and the
sunshine that is shining on it and the air
that brings it fresh oxygen, you can see that
this phenomenon is so much more than you could
ever put a word on. There is nothing to be
afraid of in this unknown because it is what
we are, just as it's what the flower is. But
like someone who has lived in a prison all
of their life, we are afraid to step outside
of what we know.

The antidote to this is to become
comfortable once in a while with letting go
of all attempts to control, to apply a method,
and just see if it is possible for a short
time to sit and experience what is right here
without needing to change it. Little by little
you may find that the world begins to open
you up.

If you find yourself with thoughts
or feelings of sadness or happiness, then,
just like with the flower, not to be too concerned
with what you know about them. It's ok to listen
to what you know - "I'm sad again. Why
am I always sad? How do I stop being sad? Maybe
I can meditate and change my sadness."
and so on. That's what you know about it and
how you want to control it by knowing. Then,
when you are tired of what you know about it,
you can just open to not knowing at all and
let everything in.

Is there a root cause of these
thoughts? I don't know. But it is easy to see
that the thoughts are very limited and only
operate in the tiny realm of what is knowable
and controllable.

I hope this addresses your concerns.
Good luck and feel free to write back.

Questioning Positive Psychology

The following was written by "A." in
response to a post on a chat list that recommended an article on Positive
Psychology and strategies for achieveing greater happiness. After A's
post is Jay's response.

A: Greetings,

The Buddha urges us not to be an optimist nor a pessimist, but
objective, neutral and discerning.

I respect the scientists who are committed to learning objective
facts about human happiness. I caution Buddhists, however, to approach this
subject without any great enthusiasm or hope. If science, logic and reason
simply presented in simple words could make people happy, then the world would
have become a utopia during the life of the Buddha, the perfect scientist
of the human condition.
The people of the world have dust in their eyes. The dust keeps them from
a proper view of the world. Scientists, educators and bhodisattvas themselves
cannot remove this dust. How many people fully forsake household life? How
many practitioners achieve nibbana? Very few, because there are so many distractions
in the human heart and head.

I agree with Schopenhaur: The world for him was a "vale
of tears, full of suffering. All happiness is an illusion. Life oscillates
like a pendulum, back and forth between the pain and boredom. Each life history
is a story of suffering, a continuing series of large and small accidents."
This is the first noble truth. It is not just a statement of physical reality,
but one of human psychology and philosophy. As rationalists, we must be honest
about the limitations of science and worldly knowledge.
Perhaps I am overly pessimistic, but this is my view of the relationship between
Buddhism and the science of happiness.

With great respect and lovingkindness,

A.

Jay: No one seems to have responded to your
heartfelt comments. If I understand a bit of what you saying, you are questioning
the role of "positive psychology." It's true that there are certain
psychological practices that might make some people feel better temporarily.
Some practices might even cause a deeper shift in attitude.

However, for a person who is directly in touch with pain or
loneliness, these "tricks" can seem like an insult, like trying
to put a smiley bandage on a serious wound. And trying to "make it better"
moves us away from what is actually going on.

You have described a painful existence, drawing on Schopenhaur's
words, and said that maybe you are too pessimistic. But it doesn't need to
be called pessimistic at all. You are describing realistically and honestly
what you see without trying to make it rosy and without trying to escape from
it into a false hope, whether spiritual or psychological.

So this is our starting point. The only thing that it requires
is closer and more subtle observation, patiently, lovingly, without concern
for a result and without a goal to become anything "better." We
must each do this intimate observation for ourselves.

I find it critical to notice that what I "remember"
about life is not at all an accurate picture. Life can only be observed, experienced,
moment to moment as it unfolds. If you ask me what life is like, the first
tendency is to check in with memory. But memory, by its nature somehow, records
pain much more than it records pleasure. Often, even the act of remembering
is painful because of this. So it is critical to see that memory is not helpful
in having a picture of the world.

The next critical thing is to discover through observation that
there is such a thing as direct experience of each moment and that it has
a different quality than observing life through the filter of memory. And
yet memory - with its knowledge, intelligence, feelings, emotions, relationships,
hopes, fears - cannot be simply ignored or cut off. This seems to be the great
paradox of meditative living. It is this paradox that leads us to spend more
time being deeply in touch with moment to moment life - understanding that
this is our life - and yet wondering and wondering without knowing.

As I hear it, what Schopenhaur says is what memory says. All
that can be remembered for many people is pain alternating with boredom. Any
trace of happiness that is remembered fades quickly in memory. True, there
are other people that remember happiness more readily. Some people are pathelogically
addicted to remembering and seeking happiness. But in either case it is only
that memory is not the accurate place to experience life. It is distorted,
innaccurate and out of touch with what is happening right now. It paints a
picture that is painful and then tries to create a picture for either getting
out of the pain or coping with it, and then devotes its energy to trying to
accomplish the picture that it has dreamed up. But it is all inaccurate from
the beginning. An inaccurate plan for dealing with the picture of "my
life" that is not what my life actually is.

Looking here, life is much simpler. Just this moment of fingers
on keyboard, sound of fan, bright light coming into the room, the smell of
food. In this simplicity there is a bodily sense of pleasantness. There is
also a clear perspective on memory and its limitations, so even though it
is memory that is supplying these words and trying to communicate, memory
has learned in this body/mind not to project its inaccurate assumptions onto
the simplicity of this moment. And this happens effortlessly.

Chogyam
Trungpa Rinpoche, on Reincarnation.

M: Here is a
quote from Trungpa:

“I have some good news
and some bad news about reincarnation. The
good news is that it happens.

The bad news is that it never
happens to you.”

Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, trailblazing
Buddhist teacher, never emphasized traditional
Buddhist teachings on reincarnation—much
like the Buddha himself, who famously said
that the Big Questions (is there an almighty,
how did the universe begin…) don’t
matter.

What matters, they agree, is
sitting down and dedicating the merit and practicing
some meditation. The rest, too often, is discursive
entertainment.

Jay: This has
gotten me thinking. Why does Trungpa say this
is bad news? Isn't it because there is a fundamental
anxiety in us about ceasing to exist. And why
would someone say this doesn't matter? It seems
to matter a great deal. Underneath much thinking
is the desire to continue. I experience this
in wanting to take care of my material needs
for the future and also in wondering who will
remember me when I'm gone. Sometimes I wonder
about what will happen to me in the future,
though at my age this thinking leads pretty
much to a dead end. What future :)? A handful
more years?

Who will remember me when I'm
gone? To listen to a question like this in
myself and let it open up and reveal itself.
To listen to and feel the anxiety behind it.
To wonder what that question means right now
in the context of this present moment. What
is it in this moment that I would want someone
to remember as "me"?

To say that this question doesn't
matter really means to me that I'm free to
examine it, to feel it, to live it and to find
out for myself the truth of it. Who knows what
word the Buddha used but I think a more accurate
way may be to say that this is not a question
that has a theoretical answer. It is a living
question that needs to be entered into, come
in touch with. The question is not irrelevant
but our relationship to this question is important.
My relationship to this question is to accept
the reality of the feelings behind it and at
the same time want to understand sensitively
what is behind the question. This isn't done
simply by thinking and making something up.
For me entering into this can involve thinking
at some point but it opens up into something
much larger and more direct than thinking.

It seems quite clear to me that
meditative work is not a matter of trying to
be more intuitive rather than analytical. That
creates a battle between these two aspects
of the mind. It sets up a dramatic agenda to
become one thing rather than another. It is
much simpler to drop all agenda and simply
be in touch with what is here, which can include
many deep questions and anxieties about ourselves
and life. In entering deeply into this moment,
with whatever mental or emotional movements
may be wanting to be heard, the present moment
may unfold so deeply that there is nothing
really that needs to be continued into the
future.

Someone reported that Toni Packer
(my mentor from the Springwater Center) mentioned
once, during her extended illness that at one
point something had happened and the powerful
thought came up "Maybe this is it. The
end. My death." and with that thought
came a lot of anxiety and agitation. Then,
at some point, the thought faded away and with
it the anxiety. This can be observed, can't
it? The active thinking and the feelings of
anxiety that go along with it and then if there
is a sticking with it and watching, the fact
that the thoughts can't continue indefinitely.
At some point, they fade away. We forget to
think them. And the state of the body/mind
changes when the thoughts are gone.

But certainly it's probably clear
to many people that this dropping of thoughts
is not a "practice" that can be consciously
done. It is not a skill that can be strengthened.
The deeper thought/emotion anxieties can't
just be ignored by shutting out the thoughts,
focusing on pleasant sensations, or focusing
on distractions, mantras or exercises. In my
experience, if an anxiety or thought/emotion
pattern persists, it is because it has not
yet been heard fully! It needs patient, extended
attention and it needs NOT to be manipulated.

Krishnamurti
and Techniques

U: I would like
to know what J Krishnamurti says about techniques
as he did not follow any gurus or techniques.
Did he practice meditation techniques before
he gained wisdom?

Jay: In our
ordinary way of thinking, life is based on
techniques. By technique, I think we probably
mean a series of actions - which can be remembered,
practiced, and perfected - in order to achieve
a certain result, either in the external world
or in our body or mind.

I can't speak for Krishnamurti
but from my understanding of how he speaks
and from my own experience with meditative
work, simple presence with what is happening
at this moment is not the result of techniques
and is not made easier by techniques. As long
as the mind is concerned with techniques, the
mind is not listening to what is here right
now. It is concerned with a goal - which is
an image held onto by the brain. Holding onto
a goal in the brain takes energy. If you get
tired of holding onto your goal, the brain
will naturally forget it. This is usually relaxing
but if the goal feels very important, then
there may be anxiety when it is forgotten.

When the mind is not holding
onto anything in particular, it can become
sensitive. When the mind is sensitive, it opens
and perceives without a goal or agenda.

So, if you are very concerned
with becoming a good meditator in order to
achieve a goal, such as wisdom or freedom,
you can ask yourself, when you meditate, "What
am I right now that I am so dissatisfied with?"
Then just sit and observe what you are. What
we are does not reveal itself immediately,
so be patient. Thoughts and feelings come and
go. The mind falls asleep, or daydreams. The
body becomes tense or relaxes. All of these
things come and go, sometimes beautiful, sometimes
difficult. But you can see that none of them
is who I am.

It may be that the particular
question "Who am I" does not mean
much to you. That's ok. It's not important
what question you ask. What is important is
to look right here each moment, where we almost
never look. But it may be helpful to ask yourself
what it is that you do really want. What motivates
you to meditate? Then if you can come in touch
with what motivates you, question it. Where
does this motivation come from? And then, most
importantly, do not continue to think about
it but just stop and observe, silently. Listen
to yourself and to the world quietly.

There is nothing wrong with having
goals and working toward them. However, we
usually do not listen deeply to our goals or
consider where they come from and if they are
even valid. This kind of consideration requires
very careful, quiet listening. It is ok to
think about these things but after a while,
there is no more to think about. Then continue
to listen.

We have goals that are personal:
I want to be a person who people like. I want
to be wise. I want to be a teacher of people.
I want to be a humble sage. And so on. Looking
deeply, there are also goals that are not personal:
I want the people in the world to be happier.
I want there to be less anger. I want there
to be less greed and violence. I am sad that
each of us must die. I am sad that so many
people suffer.

Each of these goals is like a
wave on the ocean. It is the part that we see
but underneath it is something deeper. It is
this deeper world that we, in our hearts, want
to come in touch with. The world wants to heal
us, to answer our doubts and to shed let on
our concerns. If we sit quietly enough, the
world will have a chance to do its work in
us. This cannot happen if we are busy applying
techniques but it will happen for sure if we
are quiet and just listen.

I don't know if I have addressed
your concerns. When this listening comes alive
in us, it is clear that all of the techniques
of traditional religions are limited. They
are only temporary things that may have some
temporary value but they do not shed light
on who we are. Only listening can do this.
Krishnamurti followed the teachings of his
teachers (Theosophists) very carefully and
devotedly. But when his mind/heart opened to
the world, he saw that these teachings were
nothing but confused ideas that had not been
examined carefully by anyone.

If I have not been too clear,
please do write back with any questions. If
you don't agree with something I said, please
let me know and explain your thoughts.

Following
the Breath and Concentrating on a Mantra versus
Simple Presence

C: I've been
meditating on and off for several years. In
the last 6-8 months I've more or less been
meditating every day. Mostly I meditate simply
by focusing on my breath. When thoughts arise,
I just notice them and move back to my breath.
I am able to reach quite deep states of relaxation
with this and quiet my mind.

However I'm now questioning whether
I should continue this way and whether I am
actually meditating or it's just relaxation.
I don't expect miracles but I haven't seen
many benefits or changes outside my meditation
time. I know many people experience a lot of
benefits and even have visions, etc. I have
suffered from shyness, low self esteem and
depression for a while and none of these have
improved. I also continue to feel stressed
and often find it difficult to concentrate
outside my meditation time.

The other aspect of this is that
I have occasionally tried mantra meditation.
When doing mantra meditation, I find it extremely
difficult to shut off my mind, and it takes
me much longer to quiet my mind to any extent
than with breath meditation. I'm wondering
whether the fact I find mantra much harder
is evidence that I'm not really meditating
properly with breath.

Based on the above two paragraphs,
I'm wondering whether I should now move away
from breath meditation and focus on mantra
meditation. I do find breath meditation relaxing
and enjoyable at the time but I'm wondering
whether mantra be more beneficial for me. I'd
rather do something that will be beneficial
to me than something that is easy and that
I enjoy.

So basically I'd be grateful
for advice on the following:

- Do you think mantra meditation
would be more beneficial for me, particularly
in bringing benefits in relation to stress/negative
thinking ,etc?
- Is it normal that mantra meditation is more
difficult than breath meditation or does this
show that I haven't been meditating properly?

Hope this is clear and thanks
for your help.

Jay: C, it seems
that your main concern is that there are issues
in your life - shyness, low self-esteem, depression
- that are not changing despite your meditation
time. I think this is a good thing to consider.

Now you wonder whether you should
be doing something restful or something active
about this problem. Naturally, these two impulses
are in conflict with each other and it is difficult
to know which one is appropriate at any particular
moment.

Let's consider what is required
to shed light on a difficult issue or problem.
First, it is important to understand the issue,
or, we might say, to come in touch with the
issue directly. To take it more deeply, it
is necessary to come in touch with the root
of the issue. Without this coming in touch,
anything we try to do about the issue is at
best very partial and at worst a violation,
because the root of the issue is not clear.
So the first step is to notice and let up on
the various efforts to do something about your
situation and to let the focus shift gently
to being interested in simply being in touch
with what is going right at this moment in
a simple way that does not try to change it
or interfere with it.

Would you agree that in each
moment whatever is going on inside you reveals
something about your situation? If the heart
is pounding or the stomach is clenched, that
is a direct, observable bit of information.
If one does not try to interpret such things
and does not try to change them by moving around,
one begins to notice the natural tendency of
the body to set itself right if given the chance.
The heart eventually begins to slow. The gut
unclenches at some point. This happens without
our doing it and without our needing to know
how it happens!

Let's say you are sitting quietly
now and trying to be in touch without judging
or reacting. So you are not concerned with
focusing on the breath and you are not concerned
with focusing on a mantra. Awareness of the
breath may come and go. It is not necessary
to be aware of the breath all of the time.
It takes care of itself! So you are simply
letting whatever comes into awareness appear
and disappear as it will. Because you are not
interfering with the body in the way that we
usually do, it is natural if the body begins
to feel a little better on its own. Now, the
first thing that you might notice is that the
mind is almost constantly trying to judge,
evaluate, figure out what to do about the situation,
and then implement its decision. In letting
go of your intention to do these things, you
begin to come in touch with this nearly constant
activity of the human mind and with how exhausting
and relentless it is. This is the beginning
of some wisdom about how we live.

Let's say that because you do
not try to interfere with or change the way
the brain reacts, things begin to quiet down
a bit eventually. Judgments or urges to react
come and go but don't bother you. They are
heard and are finished. Now you begin to think,
"Here I am, listening, not reacting, just
as was suggested, but how does this relate
to the issues in my life that I would like
to change? I'm just sitting here doing nothing
and feeling okay, but I don't see how this
can help in my life."

At this point it is certainly
valid, as far as I can tell, to think about
the aspects of your life that trouble you.
Consider what you know about them. It might
be easiest to choose one specific issue, let's
say shyness. Consider what you know about this
shyness - what triggers it, how it feels in
the body, what your usual reaction is to it,
what it is that feels uncomfortable to you
about being shy, your assumptions about how
it should change, and so on. You may well find
that thinking about it may bring up some information
about the situation. It may help you be physically
in touch with the way your body reacts to the
situation. You may also find that thinking
wants to solve the problem, to come up with
a mental goal to fix it. And it may be clear
that such a goal is pretty useless. Thinking
does not realize that it can't solve the problem.

If you consider what you know
about one issue, you may find that at some
point, there is nothing else to consider. You've
considered what is known and you are at a dead
end or at the boundary between what is known
and the rest of life. Do you agree that life
- as it expresses itself each moment in us
and in everything around us - is much too big
and real to be captured by our knowing brain.
Consider what is going on as you read these
words - the sounds, the feel of the body, the
space around you, the movements of people in
the distance, the silence of the sky. How can
the brain possibly make an image of this? What
can you say in words to capture it? Can we
say that simple, direct Presence with life
in each moment is not part of the world of
knowing that the brain constructs in thoughts
and images? If we sit quietly, in stillness,
with an openness and sensitivity, and a willingness
to be in touch with whatever actually arises
inside and outside, then we are in touch with
vast unknowable life. If you stay with this
and listen sensitively, you may discover that
this in-touchness carries an amazing intelligence
with it. In a silent way that we hardly recognize
or notice, new information comes into us and
the whole body and mind begin to respond, change,
in a live way.

This in-touchness is the root
of fresh seeing and the source of any possible
intelligent healing of our habitually ways
of living. Does this make sense?

You may well say, "Sure,
I've done pretty much what you're saying for
some years and these problems have not changed."
This is a sign that there is something deeper
that hasn't yet come to light at the root of
these issues. One clue for going deeper is
to be carefully in touch with the body throughout
the day. The body reflects in a concrete way
what is happening inside. You can easily begin
to see the habits of how the body holds itself,
where the tensions are held. As the body unwinds
with attention, it begins to reveal the thoughts
assumptions, emotions, that are controlling
it. Especially watch the strongest emotions
and reactions - the defensiveness when people
treat you in certain ways, the anger toward
certain things. It is very helpful and healing
to remember that absolutely nothing needs to
be done about any of the things that are seen
this way. They do not need to be changed or
controlled. It is not necessary to think about
how you are going to get rid of them. In very,
very simple seeing, the thing is done in this
moment. Anything else is extra and perpetuates
the problem.

Personally I have many issues
that are still healing and unravelling after
40 years of meditative work. Many things take
lots of time. At the same time, there is certainly
an immediate urgency to address these issues
because they affect us nearly every minute
of the day. I would highly suggest that daily
meditation cannot get at issues in the same
way that an extended time devoted to meditation
can. I personally go to three 7-day meditation
retreats a year and I find that what happens
in these retreats goes far deeper than daily
meditation can do. I could talk about why this
is but have already written a lot and don't
want to overburden your brain or mine. I would
just say that it is important to go to a retreat
that supports each person in finding their
own way and does not lay a lot of traditional
interpretations, philosophy and rituals onto
the retreat setting. It's not easy to find
such a simple retreat but there are a few places
that I know of.

I hope this has been helpful.
If I have not been too clear about something,
please feel free to write back, or to share
your observations.

Bliss
Comes And Goes

I started meditating a few weeks
ago. When I first started, a happiness I never
felt before washed over me. It lasted for a
few days, but then the happiness left me so
I stopped meditating. I started meditating
a few days later, and again I was submerged
in bliss, but for only a few days, so I stopped
meditating. Finally, I began meditating one
more time a week later, and as expected, the
happiness and spontaneous living came and went.
I have not stopped meditating this time. Why
does the happiness leave me the longer I meditate?
I would think the more I meditate the happier
I would get. How can I just maintain that happiness?

Hi, B.

I think this is something that
nearly everyone wonders about. There are moments
of bliss and then it is gone.

It's probably inevitable to feel
that meditation should lead to happiness and
that there is some kind of linear relationship
- the more meditation, the more happiness.
Alas, it does not work like that!

I would say there is a correlation
of some kind between taking quiet, still time
and the possibility of moments of simple joy.
The most honest way I can describe the relationship
is that moments of joy are a natural part of
life. In addition, even when there is a more
difficult state going on - pain, loss, sadness,
etc. - it is possible and natural for there
to be an equanimity with those states. We might
not call this joy but I think it is an aspect
of joy.

If joy is natural, then why does
it seem so rare in our lives and so surprising
when it pops up unexpectedly? To me, it seems
that there is much unprocessed stuff that builds
up in us through our experiences. Some of the
unprocessed stuff is very deep, not even consciously
recognized because it has become part of what
we take for granted as ourselves. This unprocessed
stuff blocks up the natural channels of perception.
Because most of our experience is centered
around defending ourselves and establishing
ourselves as something permanent, the unprocessed
stuff creates a strong energy of not wanting
to be changed. Healing requires change and
so there is a deeply engrained resistance to
change. Of course, this is usually not conscious.
We all claim we want to change and heal and
open. But on a deep level there is strong resistance
to that.

Because we don't heal, joy is
blocked. In sitting quietly without engaging
the body or mind in any specific activity,
there is a chance that some of the surface-level
stuff can begin to clear. In other words, by
taking some time in which we abstain from adding
more experience to the pile of backed up, unprocessed
experience, the system has some moments in
which we are awake but not adding more junk.
This allows the system to begin healing, at
least on a surface level.

Even this small amount of healing
time may allow joy to flow momentarily. Deeper
healing requires longer meditation time. Meditating
daily may help. Taking an occasional full day
or weekend in which are in a quiet, natural
place and abstain from adding new experience
to our burden and allow the body to sit quietly
for long periods may go more deeply.

For me personally, the deepest
healing only occurs with going to 7 day retreats
regularly. For many years I have been going
at least 3 times a year. With 7 days, there
is the possibility of surface-level backed
up stuff to clear away and deeper level stuff
to come into the light of day. The process
of this happening IS the process of joy, though
it may not always feel joyful. It is equanimity,
wholeness, and healing. As the backed up stuff
clears, the whole world may be revealed in
its simple, shining nature. Not only does our
personal life become simpler and more joyful
but the understanding that this is one, whole
world of life energy becomes a directly-experienced
reality, not a theoretical belief.

I don't know what part of the
country you are in but for retreats I can recommend
the Springwater Center in western NY. It is
one of the few retreat places that offers a
simple, direct retreat setting that does not
impose fixed spiritual beliefs or practices.
Instead, it allows anything that comes up to
examined honestly. Retreats are led by people
with many years of honest meditative work.
Unlike most retreat places, these retreat leaders,
in my experience, have no particular agenda.

I hope this has addressed your
question. Please feel free to write back with
any comments or questions. Best wishes to you.

Beyond Knowledge and Journeys

O: I have five
questions.

1. Have you adopted the beliefs
of Buddhism, Hinduism, Confucianism, or Taoism
(etc) and 100% apply this knowledge to your
self and life?

2. If possible, can you describe
with words a journey through meditation?

3. Is the crown chakra one to
reach or be, and if this is something that’s
lost once questioned? How is it to be known?

4. What choices/actions add to
negative karma, and if truly realized, can
it be “made up for” with more positive
karma during that one’s current life
time (as human or whatever being they are?

5. If form is what something
ultimately is, and we exist in a multi-bound
world with single things representing many
forms, how do we know how far to see/know which
things as?

Jay: Dear O,

You have asked some very complex
questions. To me this issue of meditative presence
and meditative living is much simpler.

I will try to respond to your
questions and let's see if we are communicating
at all.

Question 1.
You raise the issue of beliefs, knowledge,
and using knowledge to better one's life. From
my experience, a healing of life does not come
from beliefs or knowledge. Usually, beliefs
and knowledge are what prevent healing or wholeness
from taking place. If you have examined carefully
what beliefs and knowledge consist of, how
they function, then maybe you can tell me a
little more about what you mean about beliefs
and knowledge and what leads you to think that
wholeness comes from them.

Question 2.
I don't know exactly what you have in mind
when you ask about a journey. Some people have
commented that in moment to moment simple presence,
there is no goal, there is no movement from
past to future. Of course if we think about
it, we can talk about past and future, but
if one is very interested in this present moment
now, and if it is possible to deeply be in
this present moment - fingers typing on the
keyboard, the sound of fans, the coolness on
the face, cool air in the nose, a state of
mind that is interested in what someone has
asked - then the past and future are forgotten.
They've been let go, put aside, left alone,
so that the mind can be present and not journeying
off into the past or future.

Knowledge and beliefs are elements
of past and future, aren't they? Concern with
what I've learned. Focus on shaping the future.
When this kind of thinking is in full force,
the truth of the present moment is lost, obscured,
not seen.

For questions 3-5,
I don't know what it is that motivates you
to ask these things. I don't doubt that there
is something meaningful underneath the questions,
but you have posed the questions using terms
that have lots and lots of assumptions behind
them - assumptions that may not be accurate
if examined carefully.

In question 3,
I imagine you are concerned with how the energy
flows in the body and with certain energy experiences.
Personally, I leave this kind of thing to take
care of itself. If there is a deep interest
in the moment to moment presence of life, as
it changes and unfolds, then the energy learns
to flow where it needs to and experiences unfold
as they need to. There is a continual returning
to silence, motionlessness, no particular experience,
and yet aliveness and sensitivity.

In question 4,
I imagine you are concerned with wanting to
not have a painful future and instead to have
a pleasant future. You are wondering what you
can do to achieve this. I feel there is such
a thing as more appropriate responses to life,
which does not cause unnecessary pain, and
less appropriate responses to life, which do
cause unnecessary pain, but it is clear to
me that an appropriate response does not come
from planning out in advance what I should
do in certain circumstances. That kind of planning
is full of assumptions about who I am and who
other people are, and these assumptions do
not match the truth of people. Because they
do not match the truth, they cause pain.

How can there be any appropriate
response in my life if I do not observe very
carefully how I really live, what motivates
me, what causes feelings of separation? Most
of the time for most of us we are not in touch
with our life at all. Someone might say that
if a person is thinking about how to make their
life better and to avoid pain, then they are
in touch with their life. But what they are
in touch with is the imagery about the story
of their life, and the story of their life
is full of anxiety and the brain thinks it
is real and tries desperately to find ways,
methods, paths, journeys, philosophies, knowledge,
and beliefs to fix the story. What we are not
in touch with in such moments is the simple
presence of the body, how it feels in the chair,
the feelings of the skin, the air around us,
the wide world beyond the skin, and the silence
and completeness that all of this is an expression
of, and the pull of thinking that wants to
move away from the beautiful fullness of !
what is, into the turmoil of the story of our
life.

In question 5,
I think you may be pointing to the confusion
of trying to see the world through the eyes
of interpretation. Do I look closely at details
or do I step back and see the big picture?
Do I see things as they literally appear or
do I see them as representations? This is something
that can be experimented with. Going outside,
looking at a tree, how is it seen? Is there
interpretation? Is there a heavy sense of separation,
of longing to be the tree and yet not being
able to? If you want to understand your relationship
to things, then it can be experimented with.
You can ask, "Is this real intimacy?"
You can even ask, "How does the tree see
me?" Don't be satisfied with a quick,
verbal answer or a theory, or a brief experience
that you can tell other people or try to repeat
(usually trying to repeat such experiences
doesn't work.) If you are concerned about yourself
and your relationship to the world - in this
moment, not in the future - then watch, observe,
wonder, an!
d this may lead you into the depths of yourself,
which may prove to also be the depths of life.

I don't know if I've addressed
your concerns at all. Feel free to write back
to ask me to clarify something or to explain
to me more what you mean.

Attachment
and Nonattachment

This writing is in response to
a quote from John Welwood, in his book Human
Nature, Buddha Nature. The quote was sent out
to a listserv on meditation and the following
is my response back to the person who sent
out the quote.

What Nonattachment Is Not

Unfortunately, we can easily confuse nonattachment
with avoidance of attachment. Avoidance of
attachment, however, is not freedom from attachment.
It’s another form of clinging—clinging
to the denial of your human attachment needs,
out of distrust that love is reliable.

- John Welwood, "Human Nature, Buddha
Nature"

Looking at it for myself here,
the issue of attachment is simple, though not
necessarily easy to be with. Something triggers
a habit of wanting. The wanting may then drive
what this body and mind does. Often there is
no real insight or clarity about what is even
wanted or the assumptions behind the wanting
or the fears behind the wanting. So the wanting
runs blindly and often causes pain because
it is out of synch with reality. It's based
on something that is not true.

Sometimes the arising of a wanting
habit - triggered by something unnoticed -
is noticeable. It is possible, somehow and
some times, that instead of the energy rushing
into the acting out of the wanting, the energy
instead begins to enter into the wanting habit
and sheds light on it. Then it can start to
become clear what is behind the wanting. "Ah,
I'm afraid that this person doesn't like me
any more. I think that if I can see their face
and if their face is smiling at me, I will
feel secure and loved. How interesting. The
effect of a smiling face..."

It's amazing to me how healing
this opening up and shedding of light onto
habit is. Sometimes people talk as if attachments
are bad. This doesn't seem right to me. It's
beautiful when an attachment reveals itself.
There is tremendous love in a habit of attachment
being revealed, speaking what it needs to and
what it has always hoped would be heard by
someone.

So when a habit pattern is triggered,
there is either the blind running of it or
there is a shift of energy that reveals the
guts of the pattern itself. What determines
which way it goes? I can't say. It is not a
matter of will power because will power is
itself a huge habit pattern with a deep burden
of unseen assumptions. The same seems to be
true of practicing some tools for "catching"
attachment. The will powerer and the practicer
are dark and deeply entrenched, deeply believed-in
habits. We think that is how we need to live,
don't we? Give me something to do! Give me
something to practice!

But the possibility of energy
entering into and shedding light on a difficult
pattern - when a pattern is triggered - seems
to happen best when there is very little doer
going on, trying to reinforce its tools, with
the intent to make itself better, make itself
less "attached", less "unenlightened."
When the burden of this intending and doing
is let off, then where are we? Listening -
wondering - not knowing - very vulnerable -
very touchable. Out of this unknowing, vulnerable
being may come - unexpectedly - a different
kind of energy in the face of arising habits.
There is no one to do this. It happens on its
own - the very expression of life.

Is it possible that our spiritual
and self-improvement expectations, goals, hopes,
efforts are deeply rooted in unseen assumptions
about ourselves? What am I? What do I think
I am? Isn't whatever I am unfolding every moment,
to be seen and felt into, unveiled, if there
is not the constant effort to do something
about myself? Without spiritual goals and aspirations
- without any past or future at all to hold
onto - what am I this moment, this only moment,
this profoundly simple moment?

Distrations,
Mindfulness, and Simple Awareness

M: I have a question on mindfulness and how
I can introduce mindfulness to a specific situation in my life. In the evening,
my girlfriend and I spend time in front of the television set, sometimes eating
dinner at the same time, but always with a quiz-show, TV series, documentary
or movie on in the background.

Since beginning to practice mindfulness meditation and becoming
more mindful throughout the day, I would love to hear any advice you have
on how I can continue to practice my mindful awareness during these evenings
with my partner.

I find that for some reason, having the television on makes
me very irritable. Whenever my partner arrives home, without even having talked
to each other for two minutes, she wants the television on and then we both
sit gazing at the box in the corner with very little conversation. Where do
I turn my awareness practice to now? My breathing perhaps? What we are both
aware of at the time? The television? Or maybe the television AND my girlfriend?
Or, maybe just my girlfriend? I have no idea!

Any help would be appreciated Jay! Thank you.

Jay: I can completely relate to your situation.
I face the same thing, though it’s not just my girlfriend, as there
are other people in her household too.

I've tried over recent years to find a way to request less television
or restrict the hours or have the other people watch in a different room,
other than the living room. There is another perfectly suitable room. But
it is clear that for many reasons at least one of the other people really
wants to have the TV on in the living room. The other person do to some extent
understand how it affects me, but the fact is that all of the forces acting
on the other person lead them to want and need to watch the TV in the living.

I've faced a couple specific issues in all of this. One is that
instead of just holding onto a growing resentment, I've taken the risk to
communicate. Just as I feared, communicating about my need to have less TV
has often resulted in bad feelings, as much as I'd like to say that communicating
solved everything in a loving way. I think these bad feelings made me look
more closely at myself and my expectations of the other people. Eckhart Tolle
gave some advice about either dropping the resentment completely or, if that
was not possible, then speaking up and facing the consequences of one's attitudes.

I've also had to face the intense physical discomfort that I
feel when I walk into a room with the TV going. As you experienced, it makes
me irritable and angry. It feels like an invasion of the nervous system and
on top of that is added the thought of how other people could purposely torture
me with this noise. Of course they don't realize it affects me that way.

What does "facing the discomfort" mean? There are
all kinds of impulses that come up when I walk into the room with TV going.
The impulse to just walk over and turn it off. To ask the other people to
please go away. To get angry that the other people are torturing me. To just
leave the house. None of these are usually possibilities but they tug at the
body back and forth trying to find some release from the discomfort. After
years of this there has been some learning that the discomfort usually diminishes
after a while. Also, because I only live in this situation half the week,
there has been a learning that when I first come here from my quieter private
home, the discomfort is worse and after a while there is more tolerance. This
has also made me question why my ability to tolerate other people diminishes
when I am by myself and to observe this at my own home.

At a 7 day retreat I had this irritation come up once in a very
painful way. The retreat is held in silence but one person who was new there
seemed to sometime like to whisper to other people. The sound of hearing a
voice, in the middle of this silence, was like a knife cutting into me. For
several days I wrestled with this seemingly traumatic intrusion, unable to
get rid of it and unable to have any peace from it. At one point I heard the
person start to whisper again. I felt like I wanted to put my hands around
her neck and strangle her. I was full of anger and I felt my hands tense and
begin to squeeze (by my side. Not around her neck!) At the moment that my
thumbs touched the rest of my hand, the anger and hot feelings completely
disappeared. All the discomfort was gone. I can only say that the nervous
system - in not being able to run away from the feelings, not distracting
itself - found a new way for the energy to move through the system and the
traumatic pattern res olved itself.

It is very worthwhile to note that there was no one inside me
standing apart from this experience saying, "Hmm, I think I'll practice
with this in a certain way." There was an absence of any division into
practicer and that which the practicer is practicing. This absence of division
is what allowed something new and completely unexpected to happen.

So in your situation, rather than thinking that there is some
way you should "practice" with this difficult situation, why not
just listen into what is going on for you at that moment? Is there discomfort?
Is it being compounded by frustrated reactions to the discomfort? Is there
a resistance to being swept away by the television? Is there a fear of being
seen as impatient, angry, needy?

You wondered if you should be attending to this, this, this
or this. You can experiment with it. I find that when what is going on here
is entered into deeply, it is not divided up into different objects of attention.
There is just a wide open field of awareness that very simply and effortlessly
includes whatever is going on. This is a different quality from the usual
attention to one or a few things at a time – an attention that jumps
from this to that and is torn between this and that. Maybe in the midst of
the anxiety that the television situation brings up, you may discover this
open awareness that does not need to jump from thing to thing.

Maybe this is a start at responding to your question. I may
not have been very clear so feel free to write back.

Technique and Practices versus
Simple Presence

L: I’d
like to ask you three questions and will appreciate
your answer.

1. What is your favourite book
(or maybe some course available online) on
meditation?

2. What is your favourite meditation
technique? How do you usually meditate? What
do you focus on? Can you describe it to me?

3. I suppose there are loads
of books on meditation out there, but I cannot
find anything on the subject of CONTEMPLATION.
To me meditation and contemplation are not
the same and I’d like to find out more
about contemplation. I'd like to start practicing
it. Do you know any good books (or maybe some
online courses) on contemplation?

Jay: 1. Books.
My teacher is a woman named Toni Packer and
she has written several books. They are about
how meditative work functions in our life.

2. To me the mind is like a pond
or lake. If you jump around alot, you stir
up the mud. If you are quiet, then you can
start to see what it really is. So in sitting
still, I don't try to control the mind. I don't
try to make myself quiet. I don't try to make
the mind focused. It is just a time for a quiet
presence that shows what is really going on.
This means I may hear things or feels things
more sensitively. But it also means that it
becomes possible to hear the mind, the thinking,
the wanting, the fear. To hear it all without
needing to judge it as good or bad. Just to
find out what the mind really is.

When I hear the noise in the
mind, I realize that that is not what the mind
really is. The noise comes and goes. It might
get louder. It might get quieter. It might
disappear. It might start up again. This all
comes and goes. So what is the mind that notices
all of that? I don't know. I sit quietly, not
knowing, just listening, more and more deeply.

3. I'm not sure what you mean
by contemplation, so I can't really answer
that. For me, there is listening. Questions
and observations come up in listening but it
is the listening that is important.

Maybe by contemplation you mean
there are some subjects you want to consider,
to think about. For example, maybe someone
experiences anger and wants to know more about
this anger and not just sit quietly. I can
understand that. So when I sit down, I may
think about anger for a little while. What
makes me angry? What triggers it? Do I think
anger is helpful for me? If so, how do I think
it helps? There may be many questions that
come up. At a certain point I have thought
of all the questions and there is nothing else
I need to think about so I return to sitting
quietly. I think the power of these questions
then helps me continue to sit. I am sitting
without knowing what to do or what to think
but I am still interested in knowing about
myself, so I stay alert. Then the mind may
become deeper and quieter because it is interested
in being open, alive, listening. At some point
when it isn't expected, some aspect of anger
may reveal itself. This can happen when the
mind is awake, sensitive, listening and yet
still - not actively thinking.

So in this sense, contemplation
opens up into meditation and meditation brings
up deeper questions and deeper insights.

L: Hello again
Jay!

As far as I know there are many
Buddhist meditation techniques, but is it possible
to say which ones are the most popular/widespread?

I'm asking because I'd like to
write something about Buddhist meditation techniques
and I'm wondering which ones should I pick
and focus on during my writing?

I know that zazen and Vipassana
are popular (although they seem to be very
similar to each other). Do you know any others
that I could/should focus on during my writing?

Jay: When I
write about meditation, I am always concerned
about being very careful, considering whether
what I am saying is from direct observation
or from my imagination, wishful thinking, or
habitual ways of thinking. I don't want to
confuse others with my own confused ideas.

So I am considering carefully
what to say about what you refer to as meditation
techniques. You mention zazen and Vipassana.
Zazen refers to sitting meditation in the Zen
tradition. Vipassana is a different tradition.
I think what we are talking about is what each
tradition advises people to do while they are
sitting.

There are various practices in
Zen (I started out in Zen and have some personal
familiarity with it). These include counting
or following the breath (for beginners), working
on a koan, or "just sitting" (shikantaza).
Vipassana teachers also instruct students to
follow the breath and give instructions to
just observe what comes up.

Other "teachings" include
focusing on various objects, such as a sound,
a vision, a certain feeling.

Some of these activities have
a helpful place at various times but all of
them can very easily become a channel for simply
reinforcing our own blind patterns - focusing
our minds to avoid being in touch, placing
our hopes on an activity that we think will
make us better in the future (which can result
in spending our whole lives without ever seeing
what is really right here), standing back from
experience and labeling it, trying to reinforce
certain "good" feelings by repeating
them over and over again. Our minds are addicted
to all of these patterns and the various "practices"
can very easily play right into these addictions.
In that way practices give the practitioner
the illusion of doing something that will lead
to improvement in the future, where in reality
these repetitions of habit simply lock us into
blind behaviors while our life passes by unexperienced.
Many devoted practitioners have gone to the
grave believing they have devoted their life
to something useful and instead they have missed
their life. This is sad.

Life is not a technique, is it?
The key to living openly and freely lies in
questioning this controller that wants to create
a path to future liberation and to question
the observer. We do this work together, inquiring,
questioning, revealing the inner confusions,
anxieties, the controlling. We work together
in the darkness, not holding to techniques
or promises for future spiritual gain. In this
work there is no place to stand but there is
always the possibility of being in touch with
what is happening right now, which includes
those habits in us that always take us away
from our life of this moment. It is those habits
that need to come to light.

Well, you didn't ask my opinion
on techniques and traditions but I couldn't
address your question without doing so. I think
you would find that traditions are based on
techniques and that techniques fall into a
few specific categories, which play into certain
main habits that we all have, which I described
above. Perhaps originally, or with the help
of a skilled teacher, the techniques were supposed
to shed light on these patterns. In practice,
for most people they simply reinforce them.

There have been many spiritual
leaders who did not work in any tradition and
did not recommend techniques. These include
Krishnamurti, Vimala Thakar, Toni Packer, Eckhart
Tolle, and probably the Buddha. These people
talk instead about deep and honest inquiry
into the patterns that run us.

Sorry if this wasn't what you
wanted. I hope it is helpful in some way. You're
welcome to write back with a follow up.

What
is Meditation?

R: Jay, Thanks
for reading my question. I'm sure you must
receive my kind of question all the time. If
that's the case, then I'm sorry.

I just want to know how to meditate.
You see, I have read so many different articles
about this, and they all say different things,
like counting breaths/visualisation/sitting
in a lotus position etc. I'm just not sure
what to do.

My purpose in meditation is to
(hopefully!) clear my mind and my awareness
of my thoughts, so I could have greater control
over my thoughts.

Thanks for your time

Jay: Thanks
for your note. Actually it's always interesting
to consider a question again, even if it sounds
like something I've heard before. You're different
and I'm different than before! So we'll start
from scratch.

First of all, after nearly 40
years of being involved in meditative work,
I would say not to take what other people,
even so-called masters, say too seriously.
Actually it's difficult to know how to interpret
what someone else is trying to say about these
things without having a chance to talk with
them in some depth. Often the things we read
about meditative work may be out of context
or easily misunderstood. It's nice to be able
to communicate and inquire with a live person
about these issues. Ultimately we need to find
out for ourselves what is helpful and what
is not. But it is very easy to get off on certain
habits and spend years doing something without
carefully examining or experimenting with what
I'm doing.

I'm glad you talked about your
purpose. I think this is important to examine
and consider carefully. You would like to have
greater control over your thoughts. You don't
say why but maybe you find that your thinking
easily gets out of control, takes over on its
own, leaves you in some confusion, or is perhaps
disturbing. It would be interesting to examine
carefully what it is exactly that bothers you
about your thoughts.

So being concerned about your
thoughts, the idea of controlling the mind
sounds appealing. It may be important to clarify
what you mean by "controlling". If
you mean giving the mind and the body (body/mind)
what it needs in order to function in a healthy
way (which includes rest, quiet time, a break
from mental activities) then that seems fine.
Maybe in that case "control" is not
the most accurate word. We could say that is
nurturing or supporting the mind.

If you mean learning mental activities
that focus or channel thoughts or mind states,
then I would look carefully at what you are
doing. That kind of activity, I find, is very
tiring and has only limited, temporary effect.
It address symptoms but does not get to the
root of the difficulty with thinking. Some
people have very powerful experiences with
focusing the mind. It can have ecstatic effects
in the same way that ride a bicycle very fast
or running can have, or immersing oneself in
a problem or a book or movie or person. This
can generate a lot of feel-good chemicals and
people can spend years trying to build their
ability to do such things and have such experiences.
I have the feeling that usually they don't
really increase their abilities and in fact
the experiences, with repetition, become less
rewarding very quickly. But if the person has
been led to believe that if they keep at it,
they will eventually experience something even
more wonderful, they can continue with this
for years.

So let's go back to what is the
state of mind that bothers you. Before deciding
on a remedy, it is probably wise to become
much more intimately and carefully familiar
with what is going on that you have identified
as a problem. In order to do this, it is necessary
to take time to sit still - putting aside the
physical moving around for a time, because
it is clear that there can be subtler listening
when the body is relatively still.

It also requires leaving the
mind alone! If you try to "do something"
- focus your attention, try to achieve certain
states, try to "calm" the mind, get
upset with what the mind is doing, try to keep
from daydreaming, etc. - all of these things
simply churn up more activity in the mind and
prevent a simple seeing or revelation of what
is really going on.

Inevitably, in sitting down,
the mind will - on its own - engage in reacting,
chattering, fidgeting, daydreaming, and so
on - at least at first. There is no need to
add any further reacting to what is already
happening. Just to see if all of this internal
activity - along with the external sensations
- can be noticed as it arises. It is also helpful
to see if the "noticer" can be noticed.
What is the nature of this space in which noticing
can happen? Is there anyone behind it, in the
middle of it controlling it, or does it just
happen? This is an open question.

You might say, "Well, you
still didn't tell me what to do when I'm meditating."
The value of sitting still is in the possibility
of the inner activity of the body/mind becoming
noticeable. And the amazing thing is that this
happens on its own. If you stop running around
and are still, much more is noticed. It doesn't
take an effort to notice. Noticing just naturally
happens when there is some additional quietness
of the body and mind. You may sometimes feel
that certain things you do make something more
noticeable but if you experiment with it -
and don't "do" anything in particular
at all - you will find that this noticing still
happens.

Many people worry when they realize
they have been daydreaming or lost in thought.
There is no need to worry that you should have
done something to prevent that. My experience
is that the brain needs to throw off a lot
of excess activity and it does it as daydreams.
When we daydream we are disconnected from a
lot of reality. That's just how it works. The
very interesting thing is that the instant
of realizing that one has been daydreaming
is already the instant of waking up from it.
Nothing further is needed.

So to your question of the mechanics
of meditation, certainly it's helpful to sit
in a stable position but there is no reason
it can't be a comfortable one. If you sit on
the floor, try to have both knees touching
the ground, rather than having them up in the
air, because it's hard to sit stably with the
knees up in the air. To get the knees on the
ground, you need to sit up higher. I personally
sit on a sofa much of retreat.

In a certain sense we can say
there is no such thing as meditation. There
is only the allowing the body and mind to be
still, letting up on our usual attempts to
control the state of the body/mind. In some
stillness things reveal themselves in a simple
awareness that is not personal, that has no
agenda, that does come from any efforts on
our part. This is not a mysterious thing or
an advanced state. It happens all the time.
It's just that we don't notice it and as a
result we think that intelligence only arises
from our self-conscious efforts. And so we
set out to become good meditators. It's unnecessary.
Wisdom and freshness come when this simple
listening is given enough time and space.

You may still feel like I haven't
given you any tools and when you sit down to
meditate without anything to focus on, you
may find yourself very uncomfortable. Isn't
that exactly the state that you wanted to use
meditation to overcome? Instead of overcoming
it, can you live that state intimately and
sensitively? Confused, uncomfortable, without
anchor, just as it is happening? If you need
to find out what it is, there will come the
energy to be with the state that is going on.

You may find it helpful to ask
"What is the ground, the root, in which
all this is happening?" This is similar
to the question "What/who is the observer
that is noticing all of this?" This question
opens up into the body itself.

Is this a good enough start?
I don't know if I've addressed your question
well or not, so please feel free to write back
with clarification, questions or other observations.

Awake
in the World

I received an email today with
the topic Awake in the World. The email was
from a Buddhist magazine and it invited people
to submit their perspective on what it means
to be Awake in the World.

My first reaction was "What
does this mean?". Where does this question
of what it means to be awake in the world come
from? Who would ask this question and in what
conditions? On the surface it is easy to relate
to. It sounds like a wonderful goal to be more
awake amidst the difficulties of life. But
on this level, what kind of an answer would
I be looking for? Most likely I would want
advice. Someone wise should tell me how I can
accomplish this goal. Or perhaps I would rummage
through my store of experiences and give advice
to others. On this level I would want someone
to outline some steps, so I can make gradual
progress, or I would want someone to show me
how to practice the skills of being awake in
the world. Or at the very least I would want
someone to encourage me that it's possible.

The kind of answer that I would
want on this surface level does not seem deeply
satisfying to me. Advice, encouragement, practicing
skills, seem to only scratch the surface. They
may have some immediate benefit but it is not
long lasting. So I am asking again what is
really beneath this question about how to be
awake in the world. What would bring up such
a concern in myself or in another person?

One thing that might bring up
this concern would be if I reflect on my life
and find it to be full of muddle, confusion,
mistakes, misunderstandings, uncertainty, having
my feelings hurt and hurting the feelings of
others, and so on. Reflecting on this means
that memory is activated, doesn't it? Stored
memory traces of our past experience are activated,
woken up, and they reveal their content, which
is full of sadness, pain, wanting, and more.
Maybe there is some joy in the memory but memory
seems to predominantly like to store unfinished
business and seems preoccupied with what is
difficult and painful.

So something activates this sorrow-self
of memory. Is there an immediate reaction to
do something about it? To resolve to live better
in the future? To plan to be a "better"
person, a more awake person? This seems to
be part of the memory structure as well –
to plan a way to avoid future pain by analyzing
what caused pain in the past and by creatively
planning a strategy to avoid that "cause"
in the future. When the perceived source of
pain is the memory structure itself, memory
becomes extremely creative in figuring out
plans for being "liberated."

If this sorrow-self becomes activated
and is felt throughout the whole being, is
it not possible for it to simply express itself,
with all of the bodily sensations and emotional
sensations that are part of it, without the
automatic process taking hold of escaping from
it into lofty spiritual plans?

Sitting here, deep sorrow just
barely under the surface, an experiential understanding
of the difficulty of the human condition, the
palpable feeling of sadness pressing down on
the diaphragm, the hum of the refrigerator,
warm air pressing on the eyelids, this itself
is the world in its fullness. The world itself
is awake in this moment. Sorrow is not separate
from it, from the flow of blood, the movement
of air, the stillness. To say "awake in
the world" seems to divide this single,
simple energy of presence into someone that
wants to be prepared for difficult events versus
the events themselves.

What is the world at this very
moment? What is it that wants to be awake?
Are these two separate questions? Just listening
in open space. Does it matter at all what particular
feelings, emotions, sensations, states of mind
or body or environmental influences take place?
Nothing left to evaluate whether there is awakeness
or not. Nothing left to label anything as the
world. Is it clear that the world of concern
about the past and the future is a dream, a
fog? That when this dream too opens to the
wide world, there is just this moment, full
and complete in itself. What is it this moment?

The
Childlike Mind and the Aging Mind

Question: I
assume the purpose of meditation is to gain
a more clear perspective on the world and life?
I noticed that when I think of people who meditate
I normally think of older people. Never children.
I am 31 and personally have found that meditation
helps me unclutter my thoughts and gain a level
of efficency of thought that I haven't had
consistantly since I was a child. Do adults
have the most to gain from meditation? Perhaps
it is like an extra nights sleep everyday to
help tolerate this whole aging thing and decline
of brain functionality that comes with age?

Jay: Hi. I'm
reading your interesting note. I'm trying to
get a sense of what your main question may
be. You are talking about noticing a difference
between the child-like mind and the mind that
has come to be your adult mind. Is that accurate?

So maybe let's consider first
what this adult mind is that seems more cluttered
and less efficient, as you said, than the child-like
mind. It's certainly true that daily life as
an adult usually requires a lot of high-powered
mental activity that leaves the mind tired.
Probably for most of us this mental activity
is out of our control. In other words the demands
on us come from our life situation, including
work, and so we can't just turn them off when
the brain has had enough. As a result, humanity
walks around with exhausted brains.

How does the brain recharge?
For some people it may rarely recharge. Sleep
offers a chance for recharging but an extremely
overworked brain may not even have the ability
to recharge through sleep any more. Vacations
often are not particularly refreshing. Maybe
some people have worked out ways to feel a
little fresher after a vacation. Leisure time
is often spent in activities that numb the
brain - television, reading, etc., though I'm
not putting those activities down per se -
and often leave the mind even more overburdened.

The alternative is to sit quietly,
without overbearing sensory input (music, voices,
etc) and without consciously trying to do anything
about the state of body and mind. This allows
the entire body/mind (one undivided nervous
system/organism)to "unwind", to go
through its own healing process - unimpeded
by our usual efforts to control the activities
of the mind and body. This is different from
sleep in that, first of all, the body is upright
and is receiving simple sensory information
and secondly, the mind is awake. There is a
kind of healing that happens in this quiet
but alert sitting that does not necessarily
happen in sleep.

Our poor minds probably have
an almost bottomless need for this kind of
quiet "unfolding" that heals the
overworked nervous system. If enough time is
allowed for this kind of sitting, the mind
may become fresher than we are used to. It
may take on a different quality that only a
refreshed and energized nervous system can.
Maybe this is what you are referring to with
the uncluttered and efficient mind.

Is it inevitable that most of
our life is spent in mental and physical exhaustion?
We might start questioning this by looking
at the external elements of our life - work
and personal demands. Maybe there is a way
to rearrange things so that there is more healing
time. I personally get to three 7 day retreats
every year and may try to increase that to
more.

In many unseen ways, though,
there is something in us that keeps us locked
into mental exhaustion. No amount of external
change can deal with that. It requires becoming
aware of the internal scenery (do you get a
sense of what I might mean by this?) with sensitivity,
which requires a quiet and sensitive mind.

What keeps us locked into mental
exhaustion? This is an important question that
each of us needs to find out about for ourselves.
In sitting quietly, the activity of the mind
becomes noticeable - the kind of things that
the mind is continually concerned about, that
it does not want to let go of. Do you have
a sense of this? Protecting myself in my work,
my relationships, my health, my money. Trying
to anticipate difficulties that may arise (by
continually scanning the memory for dangerous
situations) and trying to come up with strategies
so that I will be prepared to avoid difficulty.
Daydreaming about pleasant things that have
happened (which is again the scanning of memory)
and contemplating ways to get these pleasant
experiences again. In all of this activity
the mind is unable to simply hear and feel
what is going on right now. And all of this
activity keeps the mind working, struggling,
burning calories and exhausting brain cells.
Anyone can discover some hint of this in sitting
still, though the mind may need to recharge
a bit before this comes to light.

So the primary "purpose"
or perhaps a better word would be "function"
or "healing activity" of sitting
still and attentive is that a quiet presence
begins to take over and this quiet presence
reveals the workings, the assumptions, the
fears, the exhaustion, the longings of the
body/mind, freshly - for the first time. And
from this simple seeing of what is really going
on but has not been noticed comes an intelligence
that begins to transform how we exist.

I have seen people of 80 looking
fresh as a daisy and young as a child after
7 day retreat. Much of the aging we experience
is the heaviness of a mind that does not understand
what it is doing and yet is compelled to struggle
day and night.

Meditative work is utterly simple.
To be touched by the world and to become visible
to oneself, it is only necessary to let up
on manipulating, controlling and changing what
is going on right now, at this moment.

Maybe this is enough for now.
I may not have understood your concerns and/or
I may not have expressed my reflections very
clearly, so please feel free to write back
for clarification.

Question: Yeah
I was concerned that even meditation, sleep,
and low responsibilities in even an adult life
might not keep the brain from wearing down
and becoming unfocused and prone towards forgetfulness
and missing the big picture as well as the
obvious. Would you say meditation can keep
the mind as young as a person wants it to be?
I just finished reading the book, "OSHO
Meditation" and looked that guy up to
find that many found his works a little contraversial.
I thought most of what he had to say made good
sense, but what other common perspectives are
there on meditation that are different from
his? Is it true that meditation must be in
the persuit of experiencing, but not thinking?
I can't be focusing on one simple problem in
a passive way hoping an answer will rise? People
don't "meditate on a problem" do
they?

Jay: You seem
to be concerned with the aging of the mind.
Like all things the various functions of the
mind do wear down and eventually cease completely,
unless you consider biological decomposition
to be another function of the mind.

What is it that you do mean by
mind? What aspect of mind are you concerned
about wearing down? Memory? Clear thinking?
Focus? You can really question and then observe
silently if these functions are really what
define the mind or if they might be superficial
aspects of a mind that is deeper, stiller,
simpler.

Another way to look at this is
to observe very carefully how the mind functions,
what exhausts it and what energizes it, not
necessarily for the purpose of controlling
because controlling is clearly one of the things
that exhausts the mind.

And what about the fear of losing
abilities, skills that seem important for living
a quality life? What is the root of that fear?
Is there any ability we have that is not subject
to being diminished or destroyed at any moment?
Does this mean we are doomed to constant fear?

I read just a little from Osho
just now. He says "Don't do anything -
no repetition of mantra, no repetition of the
name of god - just watch whatever the mind
is doing. Don't disturb it, don't prevent it,
don't repress it; don't do anything at all
on your part. You just be a watcher, and the
miracle of watching is meditation. As you watch,
slowly mind becomes empty of thoughts; but
you are not falling asleep, you are becoming
more alert, more aware."

You ask about other perspectives
on meditation but Osho has summed it up simply
and completely. What he says is not a perspective.
It is listening, presence. It is the absence
of perspective, the putting aside of our million
perspectives. Interestingly, he talks about
teachers who teach all sorts of techniques,
strategies and perspectives: "Whatever
Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and other people like
him are doing is good, but they are calling
something meditation which is not. That's where
they are leading people astray."

The human mind is full of important,
living questions that vitally need the light
of silent attention to unfold and clarify.
From what you write, you are touched by these
questions. Ultimately, we each need to sit
with these questions ourselves, though it can
be good to talk together using words. You ask
about the relationship of experiencing to thinking
in meditative listening. Check this out yourself.
Is it not true that when the brain is dominated
by thinking, very little of what is going on
is experienced, even though the thinking thinks
it is a whole world unto itself. It can be
easily noticed that in a moment when thinking
goes silent, the world of sounds, sensation,
spaciousness is revealed. It also becomes clear
that there is no one, no controller, that can
stop thoughts from dominating the mind. That
is thought trying to stifle itself. And yet,
there can arise from who knows where an interest
to be with the direct experience of life. And
then thought may quiet down !
on its own.

By meditating on a problem do
you mean to sit down and consider what it is
that is bothering me? Maybe reviewing it in
the mind. Considering different aspects of
it? Well, why not? I think this is helpful.
But rather than having the mind go off into
trying to solve a problem, can this return
to listening? Listening for insight, for clarification
- not in what is already known or remembered
- that is old habit - but in the open space
of not knowing. Just listening into this unknowable
moment. Forgetting everything that is known
and letting what is unknowable open up and
reveal itself.

Does this address your concerns
at all?

Question: I
guess my question was more about the breaking
down of the brain since persumable the "mind"
is intangible and not very well known. I am
concerned for my clarity of thought and focus
and confident perspective of the world around
me. Also I was asking if something like focusing
on a problem as in "meditating on it"
is outside the realm of "meditation"
since it isn't strickly observing and taking
in the world. I don't know if it would pass
Osho's definition anyway.

Jay: I understand
your concern about clarity of thought, focus
and a confident perspective of the world. I
have always felt that those were my tools for
being successful, for being able to make money,
for being able to take care of things (including
myself) for being a good friend to people,
even for being able to have a good relationship.
For a long time I felt that those qualities
were the hallmark of meditative work.

I don't feel that way now. Sometimes
for me the mind is not clear but it doesn't
bother me. The part of the mind that functions
clearly in me is often tired and overworked.
Rather than trying to drum up the energy to
force it into clarity, I am perfectly happy
to leave it as it is. In fact in that state
it is often easier to listen to others, to
cooperate (since my clarity is not driving
dictating what it thinks I should do) and I'm
more relaxed physically. So far this has not
prevented me from surviving financially or
in any other way.

Often the memory part of the
brain in me is tired. It takes a break and
there is a long lag in coming up with the right
word or in remembering someone's name. It doesn't
bother me because it's clear that the memory
brain easily gets tired and it's learning to
take a rest when it needs it. When this happens,
I feel more directly in touch, happier, more
relaxed. I'm not happier because I can't remember
but because memory is not dominating the brain,
a more nourishing part of the mind is waking
up, a more child-like part.

I recently visited with Toni
Packer, the woman who led the many retreats
I attended over the years. She is now in her
80s and has a serious neuropathy that requires
that she be in bed most of the time. Between
the lack of activity and the painkillers for
her neuropathy, her memory is very poor. In
our conversation she would forget from one
minute to the next what we were talking about
and the conversation itself was very "wandering".
I called it a right brain conversation. Not
linear or logical. But the conversation was
very sweet and full of humanness. What most
struck me about her was that from time to time
she would respond directly to hearing something
elsewhere in the house or outside. Her response
was direct and immediate. It became clear that
even with the mind very incapacitated, her
nervous system, her cells, had learned over
the years to stay in touch with direct experience.
This did not require the mediation of a clear,
focused perspective. After observing this,
!
I lost my concern with what would happen to
my clear, intelligent mind. And in any case
what happens to my mind is mostly out of my
control anyway. But the important thing is
this ability for the entire system - body,
mind, skin, nerves, cells, hairs - to relearn
how to be in touch with what is happening right
here, simply and directly. Sensorily and yet
in stillness. This is where intelligence and
compassion come from.

Meditation is simply the shedding
of light on what is arising at this moment.
A good question might be "Then what, if
anything, is NOT meditation?" It can be
observed that usually there is very little
intouchness with what is going on. Usually
the mind is almost completely absorbed in the
world of thought, which has the feeling of
being about the world but allows very little
intouchness with what is here right now - including
its own nature. Thought is blind to itself,
to its own nature. But presence can perceive
thought and can recognize what thought is and
what its limits are. It may seem like a fine
line but it can be observed and it is a critical
difference.

So if there is a problem, usually
the first reaction is to think about what I
know about the problem. There is nothing wrong
with that. It is intelligent. Intelligent thinking
is more like what I described above as presence
being able to see thought. I think good thinking
has that quality, as opposed to obsessive thinking
(why the hell did he do that to me and how
can I get back at him, etc etc etc).

So problem solving may start
with thinking. What do I know about this? But
just like the tip of an iceberg, what I know
about something is only the smallest part of
the situation. The body and root of a problem
lies in the unknown, the unknowable. This is
the silence that is entered into in meditation.
Sitting, listening, in touch, without knowing,
beyond expectation.

The unknowable is unknowable
so you don't have to worry if you are "doing
it" right to someone's specifications.
You don't have to monitor whether you are doing
it to your own specifications. Monitoring is
a limited activity of knowing. It can drop
away too, and with it drops the energy drain
of monitoring. This is the beauty of letting
go of what is known (not negating it but just
acknowledging that it only goes so far) and
just listening without knowing. Things reveal
themselves as they are, freshly, for the first
time, in a child-like way.

Retreat:
Difficult States, How does insight happen,
Are concentration and other techniques helpful

M: I recently
attended a six day retreat. For four-and-a-half
of the six days of the retreat, I was in hell.
I was facing a personal dilemma and thought
that retreat would be a good place to resolve
it. Not! The stories and scenarios of the choices
I faced could not be stopped from racing through
my head. So basically I was sitting with a
movie looping in my brain instead of concentrating
my mind and actually meditating. With some
loving first aid and a couple of discussions
with the two dharma teachers, and some hand
holding, I was able to get back to some kind
of equanimity--mainly through what I guess
you could call an insight: "Oh. Okay.
So now I'm living in a hell realm. So this
is what that is like. This is how things are
for me right now."

Accepting that let me unclench
some and I actually enjoyed the rest of the
retreat and it turned out I learned much about
myself and about what hell realms are like.
A productive retreat, in the end, but an experience
I NEVER WANT TO GO THROUGH AGAIN!!! (Or anytime
soon again, at any rate.)

Jay: I appreciated your report
of the retreat, especially the difficult part.
One thing I got out of it was that it doesn't
seem (to me, anyway) that meditative work is
about concentrating the mind. There definitely
is a quieting of the mind that can happen and
maybe we can call that a kind of concentration
in that the mind stays with what is here directly,
instead of going off into thinking. But it
doesn't seem like that kind of quieting happens
by an act of will. To me, what's important
is that the activity of the mind is visible,
transparent, noticeable. In other words that
when thoughts or emotional states do come up,
they can be noticed directly, along with the
sound of the wind and feel of the air.

The second thing that I got from
your narrative is that it reminded me of a
time in retreat some years ago when I found
myself in a nightmarish state of mind. It was
just hell - confusion, distress, anxiety, craziness.
When I met with Toni Packer and told her about
it, she listened quietly and then said something
to the effect that a new part of the mind was
opening up. Her comments conveyed a lot of
compassion and maybe hope to me, even though
I was still in that state.

Going back to sitting, the turmoil
continued. There was no room for remembering
helpful words of advice and even if I did remember,
they didn't change anything. Maybe, like you
said, there was at least one layer of panic
that was gone, since I trusted that she knew
what she was talking about.

The nightmare continued for some
unmeasured time. Then there was suddenly an
instant in which the mind was just in a different
place. A gap, quiet, still. The entire hellish
state was gone. I don't remember now exactly
how it was but the feeling was as though there
was a new space that I had never been in before
and even though the mind didn't stay in that
place, there was a feeling something like "now
I know there is something outside of this inner
world of turmoil (which I had somehow felt
was all there was) and I don't know what it
is but my life depends on finding out."

I'm not sure that the specifics
of how this felt to me are significant but
the important thing was the coming across this
gap in what had seemed like a solid mind-state,
which had the assumption that there was no
such thing as anything outside it. From that
time on nothing could stop me from going to
retreat as often as I could.

M: Thanks for
your thoughtful post, Jay.

I think your and my experiences
of sudden release from obsessive brain-wheel-spinning
were likely similar. I called it unclenching.
You called it an instant in which the mind
was just in a different place. A gap, quiet,
still.

Your comment about these things--letting
go, concentration, even meditation itself--
as NOT being acts of will may be right on target.
Yet dharma talk after talk we hear "watch
the tip of your nostrils," or "when
your mind wanders, bring it back..." That
sure makes these sound like an act of will
at many places!

I've just had the enjoyment of
reading the first chapter of Ajahn Sumedho's
book Don't Take Your Life Personally. He's
quite clear that we shouldn't "try"
to do anything in meditation except "just
allowing things to be the way they are."

He goes on, "Even if you
are stressed out at this moment, let it be
the way it is. Let whatever mental states you
are in--even your compulsive tendencies, your
obsessive tendencies--be what they are rather
than seeing them as 'there's something wrong
with me! There's something I have to get rid
of!' Allow even the bad habits, the bad thoughts,
tensions, pain, sadness, loneliness or whatever
to be at this moment; allow the sense of letting
go and let life be what it is."

He refers to Ajahn Chah's admonition
to see meditation in terms of a holiday. (!)

So do we try all the "techniques"
we've been taught in order to calm our mind
when it is overwrought, or do we just let it
be that way. Will "trying" to concentrate,
or be still, follow the breath, do metta practice,
or whatever, work better than just letting
things be? I'm asking in terms of how to attain
that unclenching or release of disquieted mind
states--which feels so good when it happens--occur
quicker, before we suffer so acutely for so
long.

Any opinions?

Jay: I'm glad
we're looking at these things. I agree with
you on your observation that dharma talks often
sound like there is some specific thing that
one should do when sitting. Not all teachers
talk that way. Some have been really clear
that meditation is not concentration or repetition
or technique. I'm thinking of Toni Packer,
Krishnamurti, Vimala Thakar, Eckhart Tolle.
To me in sitting still it is the wholeness
of life unfolding. Talking about this as someone
concentrating on something for some future
purpose feels like trying to put a tiger into
a straight jacket!

For myself there is a strong
habit of hearing what people say, especially
people in a leadership position, as rules that
I should apply. It seems to be a deeply ingrained
pattern. The brain seems to like to have a
set of tools so it will know what to do in
future situations. But it's pretty clear that
this kind of thinking has pretty limited use.
It's great for remembering where a cheap gas
station is or what to do if your brakes lock
up. But as far as being simply in touch with
life it gets in the way.

Maybe this just needs to be observed
carefully again and again as "doing"
and "wanting to know what to do"
take hold. I think it's accurate to say that
self-conscious doing - concentrating on something,
holding onto certain states of mind or emotion,
etc. - implies that there is a reason in the
mind for doing that, a goal, something that
the mind believes will happen if that doing
is done long enough and hard enough. A good
question might be "Why the heck do I think
I'm doing this?" Sometimes the first answer
might be that this is what we're "supposed"
to do, that someone "wise" told me
to do it.

Does any particular moment require
a response? Would you agree that there is an
aspect of the brain (maybe we can also call
it a part of the story of "myself")
that wants to know what is going on and what
to do? This means interpreting the raw, virgin
flow of life in terms of what is known from
the past, stored in the memory. It's a terribly
strong habit pattern but is it necessary all
the time? Is it possible to be able to distinguish
when it's needed and when it's not?

The wonderful thing about extended
sitting in retreat is that we can forget completely
about the need to "know" and enter
into not knowing, come what may. Knowing is
such a constricted (concentrated?) space and
not knowing is so huge and alive. Maybe it's
obvious to say but it seems clear that most
of what we we are, of what is going on at any
moment, is far beyond what can be known and
interpreted by the brain.

The amazing thing is that the
thinking, knowing brain is itself part of this
flow of raw life and can come to light in a
simple way that sheds light and compassion
on this particular aspect, which has been in
darkness for most of humanity (including us)
for so long.

You raised the good question
of whether concentrating or letting go is the
better way to let this flow of life happen.
It can be experimented with. I've had trouble
with "letting go" because for me
it sometimes becomes another strategy. Sometimes
what has been needed is embracing. So who knows?!
Every moment seems to call for a fresh response,
which may or may not come, but when it does,
it comes from who knows where.

I'm sort of chuckling here as
I remember sometimes feeling "what if
there had never been any meditative traditions
in all of human history and I had to find out
about all of this for myself. What would I
do??" Maybe in some ways that's really
our situation. Having no facts, strategies,
traditional wisdom, tools, techniques, knowledge
that can guide us moment to moment.

Some people might object that
"not knowing" is sort a stupidity
or depressed resignation to fate but that's
not the kind of not knowing that you and I
are talking about. It's more like if you were
walking in the forest and suddenly realized
you were completely disoriented and lost. In
other words, not knowing where you were and
how to get home. The whole nervous system might
come suddenly alive and alert, ears perked,
even the skin "listening", wide awake
in a still, motionless attentiveness. In this
silent awakeness a butterfly might pass in
front of your face and even the thought of
finding out where you are might flutter away.
This is the kind of not knowing we're talking
about - aliveness beyond the confines of knowledge.

Hmm. You asked about whether
the "coming to" might happen more
quickly so that we don't suffer so much for
so long. I was thinking about this and then
suddenly wondered, where does the suffering
come in? Raging thoughts, uncomfortable muscles
and guts, churning of emotions. In such a situation
is there someone at the center of it tallying
up the amount of suffering, adding it to the
pile of past suffering, projecting into the
future how this suffering can be prevented,
for oneself or for others? Or might all these
sensations be experienced as they are without
a judging? In a given moment of a difficult
situation, it seems to be the fact that I don't
know how long the pain or difficulty will last
and it is quite clear that thinking in those
terms creates a huge amount of additional suffering.

And yet. It's a fact that at
a certain point even the most difficult states
of mind may suddenly open up. How does it happen???
I think we can only say that it is really miraculous.
There is no predictable cause and effect for
the opening and wakening of the mind in any
moment. I think this happens for us much more
frequently than we recognize. When I'm gripped
by some self-enclosed painful state, there
is no awareness of that fact. I'm just pissed
or whatever. But then suddenly there is the
tiniest of shifts and there is awareness of
being pissed and of the dynamics of it inside
me. It doesn't mean that it suddenly turns
into a beautiful state of calm and equanimity.
Something is processing, moving, changing in
awareness but it has its own lifespan and the
state of the body and mind may be less than
calm or beautiful. Is it not true that the
state of body and mind is not important? What
matters is that the awareness that reveals
these states.

My own personal response to how
can there be "more" of this is to
get to retreat regularly. For me, bringing
light to the most difficult patterns that have
been painful for me and the people who I'm
close to has required the long, deep energy
of retreat with other people. As you know,
retreat is the opportunity to enter deeply
and directly into the stillness of life, which
becomes a fountain of healing for all of these
difficult, blind patterns. I don't know how
there can be fundamental change in a person
without lots of long retreat. Meditation without
retreat seems almost like practicing the skills
for being in a relationship without ever actually
entering into one! Maybe that's a little over
the edge but it's what came to mind :) Another
way to say this may be that when the energy
of undivided presence is strong in a person,
there is a natural desire to step away from
the business of our usual life and to be in
a physical space that is quiet and natural,
to be in a situation that requires little knowing
and to be with other people who are also moved
to be here.

Well, I'm glad to have had a
chance to consider these things. Any additions
or corrections?

M: I think you
posed a question that is way more profound
than it first appears. I'm referring to: A
good question might be "Why the heck do
I think I'm doing this?"

You could spend a decade just
contemplating who (or what) the "I"
is that is thinking about why am "I"
doing this. Same I or different I? We're told
that "there isn't a separate self"
in the big view of the non-conditioned world--but
how many of us have glimpsed that. I'd say
I have, but...oh...maybe for 10 minutes twice
in the four years I've been practicing formally.
(And one of those was while sitting during
a hike in a stupendous canyon the day before
my retreat in hell--fat lotta good it did me!)

This ties into your comment also
that, "Every moment seems to call for
a fresh response, which may or may not come,
but when it does, it comes from who knows where."
I love what that opens up for me. Particularly
"from who knows where."

One thing I'm not clear on is
what I'm taking for your dismissal--or lack
of interest in--specifically concentration
practice. The Tibetans call it Samatha. Our
teachers, too, seem to make a distinction between
concentration practice and Vipassana (insight)
practice. Both are needed, our teachers admit,
but most steer towards insight practice and
leave concentration, which leads getting into
teaching about the jhanas, hanging. But Samatha
does require specific techniques that require
acts of will, i.e. sticking with super glue
to your meditation object, be it the breath,
metta phrases, a kasina, a body part, a candle
flame, mandala or whatever. At least to get
started, and until you can just subtly lean
towards the first four jahnas and fall into
one. (From there I'm not clear on what--or
who--brings you out of those states. But something
must because they're only a taste of the unconditioned.
Kind of a sneak preview of what Nibbana might
be like. But certainly not permanent.

Jay: When I
raised the question "Why the heck do I
think I'm doing this" I was specifically
thinking about times when it is noticed that
there is a self-conscious or willed effort
going on, like when someone might notice that
they have been concentrating on the breath
or trying to apply certain strategies. Don't
we do those things because we believe that
they will bring about a result? I'm not sure
why else we would.

If I think a certain action will
bring about a result, isn't that based on how
I responded to some experience in the past,
which may or may not have been accurately observed
in the first place. And the current situation
may not be similar to the past one. It seems
that there is a huge amount of unexamined assumptions
in applying a strategy from the past to a present
situation. I'm not talking about practical
things, like what should I do if my car suddenly
is making a loud noise. In those cases, relying
on past information may be helpful and necessary
(although often we are off the mark there too).

It may not be important to discover
what I think I'm doing if I find myself applying
a meditation technique, such as concentrating
on something. It may be enough to realize that
techniquing implies a lot of assumptions based
on past information that is likely not very
accurate or applicable. Or, I wonder, maybe
concentrating, doing something, is just such
a strong habit that it simply invents something
to do just to keep busy. Perhaps the critical
thing is to test out whether or not at that
moment it is alright to drop the doing and
just be in touch with what is going on without
reacting to it. I think it can be noticed that
when the doing drops, there is a sense of now
being more in touch with the flow of life,
so that if some response is needed (maybe the
person needs to go to the bathroom or needs
food or water) it is more likely that appropriate
response will come up.

Maybe we can say that the "I"
part of this is simply the whole body of memory
that wants to react to what it imagines to
be going on, whereas in fact this "me"
reaction actually blocks the sensitivity of
the organism to feel into what, if anything,
might be needed at the moment. Rather than
saying that there isn't a separate self, maybe
it's more accurate to say that the sense of
a separate, isolated self that controls its
environment is a certain blind way that the
mind operates,without understand its limitations.
When this functioning - the whole body of memory
reacting to what it imagines to be happening
- is noticed in simple, non-personal awareness,
awareness begins to shine light on this. It
is awareness, not the memory mind/self, that
carries intelligence and compassion.

If the struggling and writhing
memory mind trying to accomplish its imagined
goals is seen, this is the operation of undivided
awareness.

Your comments about my lack of
interest in concentration practice are interesting.
It's hard to know where you're coming from
in your comments but it sounds as if there
may be an assumption that a state of total
absorption is somehow helpful, a "foretaste"
of enlightenment. I have heard this same assumption
from many people, including meditation teachers,
and I have also heard the assumption questioned.
There must be a strong memory in our systems
of beautiful moments of absorption in something
- looking at a sunset, making love, watching
the Three Stooges - and the memory wants to
recreate this kind of state somehow.

I heard a Zen teacher question
this. He said he had asked a number of other
Zen teachers if total absorption in something
(and this can mean an external thing like a
movie, music, riding a bicycle, or internal
things such as samadhi practices) was the same
as the state that Zen aimed for. Most teachers
said yes. But he questioned this. He pointed
out that there is definitely a flow of energy
through the body during concentration. But
in concentrating on external or internal input,
there may be a complete lack of sensitivity
to what is going on right here. The mind is
simply not paying attention - is not in touch
- with anything except a narrow input. How
can there be any sensitivity, wisdom, compassion,
flexibility in that? In fact, I notice in myself
that in moments of concentration I get really
agitated and angry if I'm interrupted. In wide
open presence there can't be any interruption.
Things arise. There is no conflict between
what is here and what I want. So the sense
of being interrupted or disturbed in my meditation
is good red flag.

I wonder how much good it does
simply to put this into words. The habit of
concentrating - of creating an internal buzz
- is so strong that it takes over time and
time again regardless of our intentions when
we sit down to meditate. But it can also be
observed, noticed, experimented with when it
is suddenly noticed. No need to say it's good
or bad. Certainly no need to assume that it
leads to something. What could it lead to that
is not here already in this moment!!!

Is it possible to become absorbed
effortlessly in what is simply here this moment?
To let what is here take over the body, the
mind, to touch us completely? It is trying
to all the time.

Beginner's
Mind - A Fresh Look at What Meditation Is

A: I am a 19
year old girl. I dont know much about yoga
or meditation. I read somewhere about all its
benefits and was wondering whether you could
explain to me what it is and how to start?
I just normally feel way too stressed and I
have no quietness inside. Any advice would
really be appreciated. I have recently recovered
from anorexia but now I started binge eating.
I just thought that a type of meditation might
help me. How does one start? What do I need?
And most importantly what do I do? I know these
might be stupid questions, but I have no idea.
Thanks.

Jay: It's nice
to hear from you. From what you wrote it sounds
like you are a sensitive person and that you
are aware of the internal noise, stress and
junk that most of us have going on (though
many people are too focused outwardly to notice
it.)

There are many kinds of physical,
mental and emotional exercises and systems
of healing. Some of them might help you a lot
but I would have no idea which ones! There
are even systems of meditation exercises. But
for me meditation is something different. To
me the word meditation points to a thorough
listening to what is going on right now, moment
to moment, both inside myself and outside.
This kind of listening can be called silent
because in order to really listen, there has
to be some stillness of the body and the mind.

What is the point of listening
-inside and out - in this silent way? The fact
is that there is so much going on inside us
all the time that we never hear or experience.
We don't know ourselves! No wonder we are always
ending up in painful situations. We usually
don't even know what we are or what we really
need. So sitting still and listening starts
to let the body, the mind, the feelings, the
emotions all be heard. It's like our whole
being wants to speak to us but never gets the
chance.

The strange thing about this
silent listening is that at the very same time
that it is allowing the inside being to be
noticed, it also allows us to be touched by
the simple environment around us - sounds of
the fan, the warmth of the air on the skin,
maybe even a sense of the spaciousness all
around us.

Another strange thing about this
silent listening is that even though what is
"heard" in the listening may include
sounds, sights, smells, feelings, emotions
and memories, after a while listening mostly
seems to consist of lots of unknowable space
and openness. What we are used to listening
to and what we usually feel is most important
is the sounds, sights, memories, thoughts.
But after meditating for a while (some minutes
or some years) it is the vast, unknowable openness
that seems to be most important, most supportive
and most healing.

So the more silent listening
there is, the more intelligently and compassionately
we can take care of ourselves and at the same
time the more connectedness we feel with the
simple world that is all around us, including
other living things.

I heard a Tibetan man give a
talk about meditation recently. The Tibetan
tradition is full of very complex meditation
practices but this man was unusually simple.
He said that all that is needed is Silence.
That's it. Some people asked him more about
this and we clarified it a little to say that
Silence is Listening. Listening requires silence
and silence reveals what is here right now
in its depth and fullness, each moment.

This is really the beginning
and the end of meditative work. Just to discover
this possibility of listening in an open space
of not-knowing.

Probably the best way to start
with this is to sit in a comfortable position
- a chair or couch is ok. Lying down can make
you fall asleep. The spine is like an antenna
and seems to work best if it is upright and
flexible.

Now, when you first sit down
to try this, you might (or might not) notice
physical restlessness. You might also notice
a lot of resistance to just listening. You
may also notice the strong buzz and pull of
thoughts and emotions. There is no need to
think that you should be getting rid of these
things. That just makes more noise!! But you
can just see if you can find some patience
with it all and some interest and curiosity
in what is going on. This silent listening
is not always pleasant. In fact there is much
difficult and challenging stuff that comes
up in us at times, though silent listening
also has the possibility of revealing a deep
oneness with what is happening. This can happen
unexpectedly at some moment.

There is much that comes up in
starting to listen. It can be really helpful
to have other people to talk with who have
experience with listening, especially if they
can keep it very simple and not become too
involved in meditation theory or practices
or ideas of what you should do. If you want
to let me know what part of the country you
are in, I might be able to recommend some people
or centers.

As listening deepens, it's possible
that the things that bother us the most - our
fears, addictions, and so on - start to come
to light in a healing way. Actually at first
they may come to light in a difficult way but
then there somehow comes some insight and some
healing - maybe not right away but with persistence
in giving this listening a chance. And as these
difficult things start to open up, there seems
to be more ability to feel the intimate connection
with everything inside us and around us.

I hope this address your question
a little bit. Feel free to write back if you
have more questions or as you try this and
questions come up.

Loss
of a Friend

K: Hi jay I
recently lost my lab partner to a car acident.
Since then, I have been feeling fearful that
I will die too? What should I do?

Jay: I'm sorry
for the loss of your friend. I am wondering
as I read your question what it is on a deep
level that is going on for you inside. I think
the first step is to take the time and quiet
space to listen to yourself, to hear carefully
what is going on in you - maybe the sense of
loss of someone who was part of your daily
life, the anxiety that goes along with the
memory of someone being killed suddenly and
unpredictably, the reality of your own vulnerability,
the fact that you will die some day.

Are you able to listen to all
of what may come when you sit quietly? Maybe
you would say you have already done this. However,
clearly there is still a concern for you, so
this probably means that more listening is
needed. You may find that something may come
up and you can notice it but then it goes away
and it seems like there is nothing to listen
to. I think it is helpful to continue to sit
quietly and attentively into this "nothing
to listen to." It may even seem like this
nothing to listen to is itself sort of a death.
Is it possible to not turn away from it into
some activity but rather to find out for yourself
what it is by being with it directly?

Listening to what is going on
right now at this moment includes both the
"inside" - thoughts and feelings
- and the "outside" sounds around
us, the feel of air on the skin, the movement
of the body. It is a helpful thing to see if
all of this can be in awareness. You may notice
how the thoughts and feelings -especially fearful
ones - narrow this feeling down so we "forget"
that there is simple life all around us. In
a way, this narrowing down is a dying to the
simple life that is all around us all the time.

Is it possible to notice how
the thoughts work, how they seem to demand
all the attention? Is it possible to hear what
the thoughts are trying to say without needing
to react to them or to judge them? I don't
know if you've ever spent time with a child
who is fearful. The content of their fear -
maybe that a cricket will attack them - is
arbitrary and to us adults nonsensical - but
the fact of fear is real and needs caring listening
to.

I don't know if this touches
on what's going on for you. Feel free to write
back if I haven't been very clear, if you have
some other questions or if you want to share
your experience with what I'm writing about.

K: We knew each
other since high school. I'm 22. The reason
our bond was very close was because she would
help me with visual concepts in biology. I'm
legally blind. For example, the last thing
she helped me with was a pig disection. I'm
not as blue as I was, but I still think of
her constantly and play what if games with
myself. I can still remember as if it was yesterday
and it happened on Nov. 28, 2010, at 4:45 a.m.,
which was a Sunday. As a result of my grief
I ended up in the psych word of a hospital
for 5 days and have been taking medication.
I have stopped some of the meds. I've been
meditating on the fragility of life in general,
but I'm just plugging away. I will try to remember
the life that is around me all the time.

Jay: Thanks
for sharing this. It's a sad thing.

It almost seems like a contradiction
to notice – not to remember but to actually
notice - the life that is around us - the sound
of birds chirping, the warmth of the sun on
the skin - and to be aware of the deep sorrow
and memories of someone who is gone at the
same time. But these seemingly two different
aspects somehow do go together. Maybe you can
experiment with this.

I remember when a friend of mine
died and I was thinking about her while walking
outside on a windy day. Suddenly, somehow,
it was like the memory of her was in the wind
and swaying trees all around me. It didn't
feel like she was gone.

It's not that I held onto to
that and kept looking for her in the wind.
That particular feeling faded away. But there
was some healing in it somehow. I think that
being in touch very sensitively and vulnerably
with what is right here - the life around us
and the feelings and sensations that go with
memory of someone - leads to its own healing.

I do understand what you're saying
about the loss being physically or mentally
unbearable at times, like when you had to go
into the hospital. Probably our nervous systems
need a chance to gain new strength. I hope
you will find that strength.

I am
a Hot Mess

A: I'm not even
sure where I should start.
-It's been very difficult to make any decisions
lately let alone think clearly through anything.
-My energy is nonexistent and my anger is running
rampant.
-I've lost a good amount of whatever self-esteem
I had when I was younger.
-Sleep is coming very difficult to me.
-I have all the stress of a full time college
student who has no idea what she wants to do.
-I've always felt an uncontrollable desire
to please people and let them walk all over
me.
-And to top it off, I lost my religion a few
years ago.
In short, I am one hot mess.
I've been told by some of my close friends
that I might find a way to organize all of
these things through chakra opening or meditation,
which I've never had any experience with.
I'd like to get my Meditation 101 through someone
who knows what they're talking about and what
might pinpoint my situation.
I'd be happy to try anything you think might
work.

Jay: I don't
have any special meditation strategies for
you. I can just say, speaking from my own experience,
that it has been extremely helpful for me to,
periodically, take time off from all of the
craziness. Being able to sit quietly, patiently,
with all that is going on inside, in a setting
that is simple and natural enough that it doesn't
add to the confusion, gives the nervous system
a chance to digest what has been going on.
It also brings us in touch directly with a
simpler, more natural way of being.

I think we can probably agree
that our lives are much too complex and fast
for much "digesting" to usually happen
and that we have long ago lost touch with what
living, what being, is in its simplest and
deepest sense.

This time off that I'm talking
about can be just taking some daily time to
sit quietly, letting what is going on inside
work itself out. For me it has also been important
to get to week-long silent meditation retreats.
I like to go at least 2 or 3 times a year.
Sitting together with other people provides
a lot of energy for being present with what
is going on inside and outside. It seems to
take at least 3 or 4 days for much of the internal
turmoil to work itself out. Then it is possible
to really enjoy simple presence.

When this simple energy of being
has reestablished itself in me, these other
issues - my habits of relationship with people,
attitudes toward myself, confusion about what
I need to do - somehow seem to work themselves
out, sometimes almost effortlessly. At least
I can say the self-conscious effort of trying
to get it all in order drops away and yet things
change inside, in response to the healthy light
and fresh air of simple presence.

If you are feeling overwhelmed,
I can certainly recommend a week of meditative
retreat. The amazing thing about this kind
of retreat time is that at the end of it, I
can hardly remember the difficulties that I
had before retreat. There is a different kind
of fully complete being alive that happens,
in which rehashing things over and over in
memory gives way to just taking in the present
moment.

Of course you may ask, "Well,
isn't that just a short break from the craziness
and won't the craziness just start up all over
again?" It doesn't seem to happen like
that. I'm not saying that craziness won't come
back. But something changes at a deep, even
neurological level, especially if you persist
with this kind of retreat work and follow it
up with some daily quiet time. In quiet, simple
presence we begin to see the misassumptions
that tend to run our lives. I don't know if
that expression makes sense to you or if you
relate to it. We could talk more about it.

There are many retreat centers
but many of them add on lots of traditional
interpretations. The place that I know of that
is the simplest and most direct, without adding
in a lot of confusing ideas, is the Springwater
Center, in upstate NY. Their site is www.springwatercenter.org
They have retreats there nearly every month
and there are many people who go there who
have been doing this simple meditative inquiry
into what we are for many years.

Please let me know if I haven't
been very clear about something or if you have
some more things you'd like to talk about or
ask about.

PS. After writing the above,
I realized that I left out one important aspect
that we could talk about. Is there a "meditative"
way to deal with the specific kinds of issues
that you mentioned, such as being angry a lot
or feeling bad about oneself?

I had mentioned taking a break
from all of these issues to give things a chance
to digest. This is certainly really important.
But the other side of the coin is that it's
possible to wonder, right in the middle of
one of these issues going on - like realizing
that anger is raging or that self-hate is going
on - to wonder what is really going on right
now. This kind of wondering seems to raise
deep questions, and often questions that cannot
be answered, at least not right away. I might
wonder what is really triggering my anger.
Something triggered it but I don't know what.
Or maybe I would say, "Well, of course
that person insulted me. That's what triggered
it." But what's behind that? Who is it
that's taking it so personally? Am I even sure
they really insulted me or did I just take
it this way.?

The questions that come up for
you would be your own. I wouldn't know what
they would be. But I do know that when I really
start watching myself and wondering what is
moving me, that this kind of questioning comes
up. And these questions require me to watch
more and more carefully and openly. They also
seem to have a sort of grip that leads into
just sitting still and listening, not even
knowing why any more. They become silent questions
and they lead into the heart of still, wondering,
not-knowing.

Giving time to that not-knowing,
that still presence, such as in retreat or
daily quiet time, in some mysterious way allows
these unanswerable questions to do their work
and bring things to light. The deeper, more
gripping the questions become, the greater
the need to take all of this into extended
quiet time such as a retreat. It is as necessary
as getting a good night's sleep or having a
cool drink of water.

Does that make sense?

Addiction and MeditationS: I'm meditating last 6 months. I'm actually an alcoholic
who was hoping that meditation would help me quit my habit, but I find myself
drinking as before once the sun sets. Any comments? Why isn't my desire to
drink shrinking? I don't meditate drunk. I do this when I'm sober, during
the day. My style is eyes closed, concentration on the breath.

When I started meditation, I felt on top of the world for the
first two months. Now meditation has lost its charm. I have lost my concentration,
the mind easily diverts and I wonder even if I'm "doing it right"

Jay: For a strong addiction like alcoholism,
you will surely need patience above all else.

It is easy to make "meditation" into a process, a
routine, like all the other routines we have to bring us a positive result.
In the simplest and truest sense, sitting quietly is simply the opportunity
to come in touch with - to hear, see, feel - what we are at this particular
moment. It is simply a chance for what is already here to come to light, because
in the usual activity of our body and mind, very little of what is going on
more subtly can be seen/heard.

If you focus on concentrating on something like the breath,
you may miss what is all around you and inside you. You can watch this carefully.
Notice what your motivation is. Are you meditating in order to accomplish
some physical or mental state of ease? There is nothing wrong with a state
of ease. It may, in fact, come on its own if one is just interested in being
awake with what is. Or it may not come. It doesn't matter what state of body
or mind is expressing itself. It only matters that it can be seen, felt, heard.

So in sitting down, the breath is noticeable but it is not all
there is and it doesn't need to be focused on. If you are interested in what
really moves you to drink, you can watch yourself every moment. Come to know
the movements of the mind and body very intimately.

Watch what happens when something unpleasant comes up. You may
catch the built in, automatic responses to discomfort - wanting to run away,
wanting to do something that will make the body more comfortable or something
that will make me forget about the body completely. If something unpleasant
comes up, it is already a breaking of addiction if you can just stay with
it, listen to it, feel it, without immediately deciding you have to get away
from it.

You say you felt on top of the world while meditating for a
while. Because the state of body/mind was pleasant, you wanted to repeat it.
But what is the state now when you sit down with yourself? Have you listened
to it carefully? Sitting down in meditation doesn't cause any states of body/mind.
It just reveals what is already there. So if you experience distraction, uncertainty,
discouragement, then listen to those things carefully and intimately, without
even knowing what they really are. That is what you are at this moment - for
whatever the reason. To stay with what you are is already a breaking of addiction.
And you may discover that things are not at all what you thought they were!

I think we can say that most addictions - maybe all - are based
on wanting to feel differently from how I feel now. Of course, all human beings
act this way most of the time and for most of us these reactions dominate
are lives. We can go to our grave never having seen that we constantly escape
who we are this moment. You are fortunate because your alcoholism shows you
very directly that when you are unable to be with the challenge of the moment,
you destroy yourself by drinking.

I mentioned this possibility of listening carefully to what
is right now. This is not an easy thing to happen. All of human training leads
us away from it. It is not just an intellectual thing. There is a bottomless
possibility of listening more and more sensitively, more broadly, not just
in the body but in the whole world. It takes a lot of time devoted to silent
listening for this new way of being to be born in us. The roots of addiction
are deep. They are not just in our own body. We have to be able to listen
into the vast stillness, beyond plain knowing/wanting/interpreting. Then it
is possible that some day when the time is right, these roots will reveal
themselves and be healed.

If you have the opportunity to go to week long meditation retreat,
I very highly recommend it. I think it is the only way for most of us to enter
deeply into silent listening so that it wakes up in us. At the same time,
the need to listen carefully is here every single moment, isn't it?

Our lives are like a cave of treasures, the entrance to which
is filled with garbage, junk, filth, confusion, irresistible temptations and
deep boredom. We turn away from what our life presents this moment because
we think it's not what we want.

Please feel free to write back if I have not been clear about
something or if you have some other questions or observations.

What Happens In Meditation?

Question: I started meditating sun on my heart
3 months ago and having upper body and head movements. However, sometimes
I become confused and have different mind states. I also had experiences of
weightlessness. I am slightly scared. What should I do?

Jay: I have heard many people talk about strange
feelings in the body from meditating, as well as strange or unusual states
of mind. People often say they are scared or want to know what to do about
it. Sometimes people are also quite excited about these states at the same
time as being scared. Sometimes people are just happy to tell them to someone
who will understand and not think they are crazy!

When I hear from people, I'm always interested to find out what
your motivation is for meditating. What is it that moves you to sit still?
What is it in your life or in yourself that moves you to do something at all?
If it is not very clear what moves you, it is a great question to ask when
you sit down to meditate. You can raise this question and then just simply
sit and observe what it is that move you right now.

For some reason I am thinking of a person who wants to look
in the mirror to see who they are. So the person draws a picture of a beautiful,
warm sun on the mirror and then looks at it. The next day the person draws
a picture of a mountain on the mirror and looks at it. The next day it is
a picture of a saint, and so on. How can we see ourselves if we are always
putting pictures onto our mirror? To know myself it is better to not add any
new pictures. Just sit quietly and allow whatever pictures are happening to
come and go, without adding to them. And yet wondering what am I other than
these pictures.

There may be states of mind or states of body, unusual feelings
or strange emotions. These all come into being and change and disappear, on
their own, if we don't try to control them. Can all of this be simply see
as it goes on? Usually we don't see this - the actual life that is going on
in us - because our attention is all in trying to control what we are. So
naturally after a whole day of trying to control ourselves, we feel that somehow
something is missing, disconnected, separate. It is not easy to simply be
in touch without trying to change things. Fears may come up, or restlessness,
or boredom, or the brain may just retreat into fantasies. But if there is
interest to know myself, then all of these things can be seen.

Pitfalls In Meditation?

B: Based upon your personal experience in meditation,
what are the pitfalls of the mediation which yourself did and also have seen
others doing/ going through? Also, how to recongnize and get out of it (them)?

Jay: I don't really remember anything I would
call a pitfall. Certainly there have been times that were difficult but meditative
work really involves, for me, being with the unknowableness of the present
moment.

I can say that every moment, if really listened to carefully,
is beyond really knowing whether the current state of things is good or bad,
helpful or harmful, to be embraced or to be avoided. How could I know these
things?

Certainly, there can be an immediate response in the mind to
an unpleasant state. I'm sure you've noticed that. Let's consider for a moment
a state, maybe during meditation or not, that is fearful. Looking at this
carefully, there is some kind of state that happens first before it is even
labelled as fearful. Maybe the heart starts beating faster, the palms sweat,
there are anxious thoughts in the mind. After the fact, the mind says, "I
am afraid." This labelling itself can affect the state. It can make it
worse or it can result in a rigidity or in some attempt to get rid of what
has been labelled fear. The mind can say, "I know what this means and
I know what happens when I get in this state. Or at least I know what might
happen."

But we can ask, what is this state really if I don't stick too
much to the evaluation that it is fear. What is it if I just listen to what
is going on right now without trying to change it? Usually when people do
this, they find that what is going on is not what they thought.

So what would constitute a pitfall then? Obviously you don't
want to put yourself in physical danger. But mostly we are afraid because
of what we are imagining might happen. It doesn't hurt to get up and make
sure that the loud noise in the living room is not someone breaking down the
door. Once that is ruled out, then just listening freshly to what is going
on.

Do you get the observation that labelling something as negative,
a pitfall, can keep you from finding out what it really is? I am talking about
when something is going on for you right now. I'm not talking about trying
to figure out abstractly what is good or bad.

There is nothing wrong with the thought, "I wonder if something
negative is going on now." Or "I wonder if I'm making trouble for
myself." Maybe these are valid warning signs. The important thing is
to listen carefully to what is going on at this moment - not just my thoughts
about what I think is going on - to find out directly. Then you can know for
yourself if something is helpful or harmful.

B: The pitfall that I referred to was when
I ended up meditating on a fixed object - not like Insight meditaion where
everything is dynamic as the mind constantly on the move from place to place.
As my concentration became stronger and stronger, I also felt the peace and
calm that I wanted to stay with me. I would get angry if something distracted
my "flow" and always yearn to be in that peaceful state again. Not
a good idea, as I now know that nothing is in a permanent state. And, there
is a limitation as to how long I could hold my concentration at certain level.
By just focusing on being at peace, I felt the meditaion wasn't advancing
either. It was rather dry and systematic. And, I remember being at that stage
for many years! - until I learned not to let the mind dictate what I need
to do.

I understand exactly what you mentioned at the above, that is
what I am also currently doing- being in the moment, and at the same time,
pay attention to the mind (pay attention to what is coming and going) and
the surrounding- without judging. It is kind of like just seeing that the
water level is the middle of the glass- instead of seeing (judging) it as
half empty or half full. And instead of controlling the mind, I watch it and
use it when necessary. I sometimes get the urge of wanting to remain at certain
(peaceful) stage. I simply watch the mind and a moment later that urge disappears.
And, I know it wasn't really me. It was the mind playing tricks, doing what
it does best.

Jay: I remember now that we talked about this
before. Well, you have discovered a pitfall for yourself and you have stepped
out of it.

Maybe you still wonder a little bit about this focusing because
you are asking about it. I agree with you that focusing on an object is not
the same as having an open mind.

From my experience, focusing the mind does often bring about
a state of energy or peace. But first of all, it is temporary. It is a mistake
to think that somehow we "should" be able to train ourselves to
have that feeling. That is not what meditative listening is about.

Most people use some form of this focusing in their lives. It
is exactly what watching TV or a movie is. Or riding a bicycle fast, or running.
Or even sex. That is why we like these activities. There is nothing wrong
with them unless people try to use them to shut out painful things in their
life.

Sometimes the mind may take on a certain focus naturally. That
is not a problem.

So it sounds like you have discovered that focusing is not the
same as being open with whatever comes up at this moment. It is very helpful
to not be too concerned about what the state of the mind or body is. We can
notice it. We can take care of the body and mind. But it isn't necessary to
create certain states. It takes too much energy and it blocks what is really
happening right now.

To me, at each moment my body/mind has a certain state for this
moment. The state of this particular moment is like a child that is trying
to say something. It needs to be heard. If the state of this moment is sadness,
it needs to be heard, so I have to be careful not to try to change it or make
it be something different. I just need to hear what my body/mind is trying
to say right now. If it has a chance to express itself, then it will be done
with this state. Otherwise the state will come back again, until it is deeply
heard.

Usually with children, if they are in a state that we’re
uncomfortable with, we want to make them feel better. As adults we have a
strong habit of wanting to interfere with a child’s difficult states.
We tell them not to worry or to be “nice” instead of angry or
we distract them with a game. How do we know that isn’t a disruption
to what is going on for them at this moment? I watched once when our three
year old granddaughter was standing in the hallway, arms crossed over her
chest, a scowl on her face. She stood glaring and I stood there watching,
interested, without interfering. Moments later her face and arms relaxed and
she walked away to do something. The angry state was completely finished!

What I said about the body/mind expressing itself like a child
every moment is sort of a metaphor. It probably isn't true all the time but
it has some reality and maybe you will relate to it.

Disturbance

[The following is in response
to comments by several people about being disturbed
by people coming in to sittings late at a meditation
group. There was a discussion about how to
work with disturbance.]

A good question might be "what
is it that was disturbed?" Looking at
this for myself, I would say that there is
usually some state of mind/body that is being
held onto, maybe a state of quietness or relaxation.
And there is a resistance against that state
being changed by "external" noises
or events. I find myself thinking "why
did that person have to do that. How can I
keep that from happening in the future."
But I notice too that that very thinking also
includes the body tensing against the change
that's trying to happen.

I wonder if there is a deep assumption
that a quiet state of mind is the goal of meditation.
For myself, I often feel the need to be able
to enter into deep quiet and that is something
that I'd say I do really need, just like getting
deep sleep. But I wouldn't say that meditative
presence, open awareness, has anything to do
with a state of mind. Maybe that seems strange
to say. I remember that I used to feel very
much that this work was somehow about finding
the right state of mind, which was a never-ending
struggle. Then one day it was very clear that
this living world from which we are not separate
has nothing to do with states of mind. Simple
presence just reveals the states of body/mind
just as it reveals the sounds of the fan and
the sunlight in the air.

This being distracted, disturbed,
interrupted is something that has been very
painful for me. Certain actions by people seem
to trigger what must be a deep trauma of some
kind, something that is very seriously and
mortally afraid to be touched. But in some
ways it becomes clear that the only way for
that to open - when some sound or voice has
triggered it - is to start to be familiar with
the reactions that move away from it (for me
this is "trying to do something about
it" either by thinking of how to avoid
it or by actually getting up doing something)
and to be familiar with what brings more in-touchness
with it right now in this immediate moment,
not later through some strategy.

Sometimes in this situation I
do feel truly helpless. Sometimes I feel like
something terrible really is going to happen
to me. This is the voice, heart and soul of
the trauma expressing itself fully through
this body/mind!! It so much needs to be heard
and felt, even though it seems like that is
exactly what the nervous system has tried desperately
to prevent happening all these years. How strange.

How
Does Meditation Lead to Self-Awareness?

L: Hi Jay. I'm
doing some research on yoga and meditation,
as I'm planning on making it a daily thing
for me. What I've read about meditation so
far only states that it increases self-awareness,
but I don't understand how the quieting/clearing
of the mind leads to self-awareness.

How does that work? And is it
possible to meditate on a concept/philosophy
in order to gain insight? Also, how will the
answer come to someone who asks a question
(such as Who am i or What is my purpose in
life?) in the meditation? When asking the question,
is it directed at your inner self, or at God?

Thanks, and much appreciation
to your time and answers!

Jay: Hi, L.

First we have to agree on what
we are going to mean by the word "meditation."
There are many different forms of concentration
or focusing on feelings, and so on, that are
like mental exercises.

For me, sitting in stillness
is a letting go of the usual attempts to control
the body and the mind and simply entering into
what is here, inside and outside. Usually this
simple field of hereness is dominated by the
activity of the brain - thinking, chatter,
emotional turmoil, etc. That activity is going
on all the time as we move through the world
but it is not so clear that it's going on until
we sit down quietly. Then it's painfully obvious!

If the mind is focusing on something
- a concept or philosophy as you mention -
then what's going on is covered up by that
focus. Maybe that is why we love to focus on
something so much. It covers up the pain, the
dis-ease, the anxiety or the emptiness. It
is more difficult to be with what is going
on without reacting to it because we are not
used to doing that. It takes different existential
"muscles."

This quiet sitting is not a technique
to accomplish something. It is just whole,
simple presence. It's what we are, without
knowing or doing.

I don't think it is too hard
to see that by being present, much can be revealed
that is not revealed when our systems are in
a buzz. So, really, it's not that meditative
presence increases self-awareness. It is that
our constantly overwhelmed and active nervous
systems block and confuse self-awareness and
create pain and suffering.

If I am walking through a wild
woods with a blindfold on and a Ipod plugged
into my ears, there is no question that I'm
going to get hurt. And I'm also going to be
real confused about what is going on.

If you have a certain question
that bothers you, people have reported that
it can be helpful to remind yourself of the
question when you sit down to be still but
then let it recede into stillness. It seems
to do what it needs to on its own if it is
given time and space of quietness. If you are
inclined to try to think it through, then you
can experiment with how far that takes you
and when that comes to a dead end. Even when
people wrestle with scientific or math problems,
they work on it actively for a while and then
often find that the answer comes in a quiet
moment.

We might say we are asking these
questions into not knowing. You can make up
names for the space beyond knowing - God, true
self - but it doesn't need a name. It doesn't
need to be known. It is just the acknowledgement
that most of the universe is beyond the realm
of the knowable and to give that space, that
presence, a chance to be lived in.

I don't know if this addresses
your questions or not, so please feel free
to write back with other questions or comments
from your experience.

Is
Meditation Relaxation or Active Mindfulness?

R: When I start
meditation, I start concentrating on relaxing
my body and focusing on my breath. After a
few minutes I seem to be giving away to total
relaxation/loss of self. Then a portion of
my my mind says "No. Stay awake. Don't
give into any relaxation! Meditation is all
about staying awake and mindful!"Once
I start doing that, I see that my mind has
become a monkey, examining one thought after
the other without any relaxation. As a result,
I get too panicky, examining and trying to
get away from every thought in a self conscious
state. Ultimately, what happens is that I get
confused. I ask myself, "Should I focus
on total relaxation or total mindfulness?"

I think I've got the practice
all mixed up! I seem to be mixing up relaxation
meditation with so called mindfulness meditation,
in order to find out the "correct technique."Now,
I'd like you to go through what I said carefully
and to answer me.What is the correct technique?
Which method should I concentrate on? I seem
to be mixing up styles. Is it ok?.HELP!

Jay: I understand
what you are talking about. These are two different
qualities of the mind that you are describing
- the relaxing, accepting mind and the analyzing,
"alert" mind. These probably correspond
to differences between the left hemisphere
of the brain and the right hemisphere. This
difference is also reflected in the sympathetic
and parasympathetic nervous systems.

It seems that the human body/mind
is divided into two halves very naturally.
Often these are in conflict with each other.
For example, the sympathetic and parasympathetic
nervous systems cannot be activated at the
same time. Either one is activated or the other.
I forget exactly what they control but one
is something like digestion and relaxation
and the other is voluntary activity.

How does the body know which
one to activate? If you need to digest but
you also need to run away from a tiger, the
body must somehow make the decision. If you
run away from the tiger, your digestion will
be shut down and you'll get a stomach ache.
If you relax and digest, you will feel good
but you will be eaten by the tiger (which will
then have to lie down and digest you!)

So we can see that there is a
lot of intensity and feeling of urgency around
the turning point between relaxing versus being
active. It is a turning point that may be associated
with life and death itself. It is natural then
that as you begin to relax, something is activated
that says "Wait. I should not be relaxing.
I should stay alert." and that there is
a sense of urgency about it.

Of course, as you maintain alertness,
something in the back of the mind is saying,
"Why am I doing this? I need to relax
but I feel like I shouldn't." Then the
active part of the mind tries to shut out that
voice and works harder to stay alert.

Alertness cannot go on forever.
It eventually has to rest but if it has the
feeling that it does not dare rest, then it
will push itself into exhaustion. Resting also
comes to an end at some point. When there has
been enough resting, then there is energy for
the mind to become alert.

Does this give us a good picture
of these two aspects of the mind?

Now the question you raised is
"Which one should I do?" But I can
ask you, "Which mind is asking that?"
This is a question you can considered carefully
as you observe what is going on.

In fact, the body/mind works
in the most healthy way when it is responding
to what is actually sensed in the present moment,
especially the physical senses of seeing, hearing,
feeling, smelling, tasting, etc. Usually, in
most of us, most of the time, the information
of these senses is drowned out by the sound
of our mental thoughts and images. These are
not good information for the body/mind because
often the thoughts and images are confused
or not really representative of what is going
on.

By that I mean that suppose you
hear a loud sound outside and your brain immediately
presents the image of a tiger. Just like in
a dream, the body thinks, for a moment, that
there is really a tiger. Then the adrenaline
starts to pump and the muscles tense and the
digestion turns off. It is the same thing if
your boss comes up to you with an unhappy face.
Before the boss even says anything, the mind
has already created the image that someone
is angry with you and the body/mind thinks
this is really happening.

There is no way to stop this
imagery of the mind, at least without doing
damage to the mind's natural sensitivity. However,
it is possible to realize that the information
that is coming into the senses is much more
real and much healthier. When one starts to
notice this, the chattering of the brain becomes
less important and may slow down on its own.

If I have decided that I should
relax or should be alert when I meditate, I
have only created one more idea to confuse
my poor body/mind. Is it possible to sit down
without knowing and to be in simple touch with
what is going on? You may find that it doesn't
matter whether the body/mind goes into relaxing
mode or alert mode. If you don't care which
it does and just be present, you may discover
some things about these internal modes, which
may have personalities of their own.

Some people have pointed out
that it is not important at all what is seen
(experienced). It is only important that what
is going on can come into the light of awareness,
that things are seen. We can't say that this
takes alertness or that this takes relaxation.
It depends on the moment.

People have also pointed out
that the state of mind is not important. At
one point this would have sounded completely
crazy to me. I would have felt that meditation
is completely about the state of mind. But
then at a certain point I suddenly noticed
the world around me. I realized that the state
of mind did not need controlling or cultivating.
That states of mind just need to be seen if
they arise and forgotten if they don't. There
may be information in states of mind, just
as there is a scent in a flower, but it is
not something I have to be concerned about
or control.

Whether the body/mind needs relaxation
or alertness at a specific moment is determined
by vast, mostly unknowable factors. The information
of the senses is useful. There is other information,
like the pull of the moon, the activity of
the sun, the minds of other people and animals
and plants, that also influences this. The
decision is not made by the conscious mind,
even though it may feel like I have decided
to be alert or decided to relax. We simply
become consciously aware of a decision that
has already been made in the nervous system.

This is all an experiment at
any moment. You can watch the conflict between
two systems of the body/mind. You can be interested
in how it plays out. Which one wins. Which
loses. Follow it up for hours if you are interested
and see what happens. You may find that if
the conscious mind does not try to decide which
is right, that there is a tremendous freedom
and even playfulness in these processes.

I have a friend whose two children,
an older girl and a younger boy, always argued
with each other in the back seat of the car.
One time my friend couldn't stand it any more.
He stopped the car and yelled at them, "Why
do you two always argue with each other?"
They were silent for a moment, then looked
at each other and responded, "But we like
it!"

I hope this helps a little. Please
write back if I have not been very clear about
something. I will also be interested to hear
how this goes for you.

R: I suppose
Buddhist meditation is all about being mindful.
Other meditation forms are about entering a
trance-like state based on relaxation, right?
Which one would you recommend? What is YOUR
meditation technique? Thanks.

Jay: This is
really the same question that we discussed
before, isn't it? Should I be "mindful,"
alert, active, or should I let myself be relaxed,
in a trance?

Personally, I don't have a meditation
technique. For me there is the possibility
of a simple presence in which the happenings
of the mind and body and world all around are
simply visible, experiencable as they happen.
It doesn't matter whether it is the sound of
a bird or the sound of an angry thought coming
up in the body and mind. It can all be noticed
if the brain is not trying to direct everything
or to control itself.

In this presence there may be
a relaxed state that is noticed or there may
be an alert state that is noticed. It doesn't
matter which. Each has its place. The important
thing is the noticing.

Perhaps you have an unrealistic
expectation of meditation. I think it is very
helpful to carefully examine your goals and
reasons for doing meditation. Maybe you came
to meditation because you wanted to make yourself
better. But if you watch carefully, you discover
that you don't know what to do. Do you relax
or do you be alert? It is impossible to know
which one to do. The two are always in conflict.
So you look for an expert who can tell you.
But even if you look to ancient and wise traditions,
you still find this same contradiction. Some
say "be and relax" and some say "be
actively alert."

When you sit down to meditate,
maybe you can ask yourself, "What do I
need right now?" Then just listen to your
body and mind and to the sensations coming
in from the world and to the silence all around
you. Let all of that information come into
you without interfering with it.

Letting what is going on be revealed
is not a trance state nor is it trying to be
alert. It is a matter of not interfering with
what is actually here. It is both quiet and
attentive.

If you still think "But
how do I do that?" then just sit and try
it. You will notice the mind continually evaluating
what is going on and thinking about what should
be done. If you can notice that the thinking
does not really know, then you can make it
an experiment. If you really think you should
go with trance relaxation, then go with it
and see what happens. If you really think you
should stay away from trance and be alert,
then try it out and stay with it.

Does this make sense?

Reaction
to Verbal Inquiry

Jay: Dear R.
I received your request to be removed from
the mailing list. I realize that the meditative
inquiry session you attended a couple weeks
ago was your first with us. I'd be interested
in any feedback you had on the session you
attended. Did you find it unpleasant?

R: Jay, it was
not that it felt unpleasant but more that I
felt at a different place. The discussion was
more philosophical than I am accustomed to
and therefore felt hard for me to connect with.
I affirm different strokes for different folks,
and you had a sizable group there, so keep
up the good work.

Jay: Thanks for the feedback.
It is interesting for me. I understand what
you are saying. People often experience the
inquiry that happens in the group as "abstract",
theoretical, philosophical or "in the
head". I've noticed this in Springwater,
where I go to retreats and in other places.
I was concerned at first when people would
say this about something I was saying and because
of this, I've looked at this carefully.

Usually people feel this way
in listening to other people talk together
(as opposed to feeling this way about an inquiry
they are participating in). When someone listening
to a conversation has spoken up and said it
sounds theoretical, a number of times I've
checked in with the other person who was engaged
in the discussion. Pretty much invariably that
person reports that the conversation was very
direct and right on with what they were inquiring
about and not theoretical or philosophical
at all.

I often feel, when I'm listening
to others talk and I'm not involved in the
discussion (I'm talking about this meditative
discussion, not ordinary talking) exactly what
you described, only maybe more judgmental.
I may feel they are off track, that it's not
what I would say, that they are just being
theoretical, saying things everybody has heard
a million times, and quite often, simply that
I cannot understand a thing they are saying
or relate to it, which makes me feel frustrated
and somewhat stupid. One time last year I was
in a discussion at Springwater during retreat
and I questioned the value of what someone
had said, commenting that it just seemed like
hollow advice. Someone else who I respect spoke
up and said that they had found the person's
words quite helpful. I was surprised but accepted
this at face value.

Many things such as this come
up when discussion does not stick with the
conventionally safe ways of talking. I'm not
saying one has to "suffer" through
this stuff for some purpose, but it is quite
clear to me that when conversation stays with
what is safe, the opportunity to hear each
other and oneself deeply is lost. I like to
encourage people to be patient with this open
kind of discussion and to see if they can find
their way with it, gradually and perhaps awkwardly.

There are several ways I've found
to help keep the dialogue meaningful for myself
(remembering that it might already be meaningful
for others). One is to ask people questions
to help clarify what they are talking about.
Often the person who brings up a topic has
not expressed it particularly clearly. It is
not easy to do so and we don't have many opportunities
to learn this. People are usually very general
and theoretical when they frame a question,
so no wonder that it is hard to relate to.

Another way to keep it "real"
for me is to raise concerns that are important
to me. That is rather vulnerable, of course.

Another approach that I have
found is simply to listen even if I can't relate
to what people are saying. I try to let the
frustation drop and just listen. I sometimes
feel "out of it" when I do that because
I have no role whatsoever at those moments
and I always like to have a role. Just listening,
sometimes later on during the discussion or
the next day something clicks and I realize
what they were talking about in a way that
does feel real and not philosophical.

It strikes me just now that a
big part of the value of this verbal inquiry
together is to uncover exactly these dynamics
which very much dominate our relationships
and communication with others. So what you
experienced - that the conversation sounds
theoretical and doesn't touch where you are
at - is a good thing to have had a chance to
bring up together.

I'm personally very interested
in what moves different people, what questions
or spiritual searching moves you. If it is
more comfortable to talk one on one in a setting
where we can listen in a direct way to each
other, I am always interested in doing that
together.

One of the reasons why I try
to maintain this group situation is because
I have not found settings for verbal inquiry
together locally. There are groups that have
discussion but the ones I have participated
in I have found to not be able to go beyond
the "safe" rules of conversation.
Of course the "safe" usually feels
good to people. If you have a discussion where
people agree with each other, you can feel
like you have like-minded friends. It may not
really be the case but it gives that impression.
If there is a discussion in which people are
emotionally supportive, one feels heartfelt
affection but it never feels particularly real
afterwards. When the safety net is dropped
and we have to face the reality of how we communicate,
it is more difficult and requires more patience
but I find the affection and support that come
out of that are ultimately more real.

Well, I just wanted to share
these thoughts. Thanks for your honest comments.

R: Interesting.
I will consider what you've said.

Sensations

S: Hi, Jay.
I'm 23 years old and I've been meditating for
about 3-4 years now. A common thing that happens
15 minutes into it is vibrations. These are
very pleasant and always catch me off guard.
They range from light to, at one point, very
vigorous. Only one time was it uncorfortable.
However, I still don't understand what this
is. Tones usually accompany these vibrations
and so do the colors red and blue in blob-like
shapes in the blackness of my eyelids. Can
you help me out with understanding this? I
have yet to meet someone who could help. Thank
you.

Jay: The body
and mind are full of mysterious and unusual
sensations, most of which probably simply do
not have any "meaning" in the sense
that we usually think of it.

I think when we experience something
that is outside of our usual experiences, the
first thought is whether it means something.
Looking more closely at this, the thought is
really "Does this mean anything FOR ME",
with the emphasis on me. This is the memory
speaking, scanning what it knows about keeping
the body safe and healthy.

The thoughts might also be along
the lines, "Wow, I am developing some
cool abilities. If I keep doing the same thing,
will it get cooler?" There is also the
thought, "Probably no one else has experienced
this. This makes me special." When other
people say they don't know what it means, that
thought can be reinforced. The loneliness of
being unique, which can feel very superior
to others, but the fact is that that feeling
almost immediately wants someone else to share
it with, even if it is just one other unique
person. As much as we like being unique, we
don't really want to be alone.

The fact is that we are continually
fascinated by our internal processes to the
extent that we don't hear and experience the
real world around us. If you feel these sensations
have some meaning, then examine them carefully
and open mindedly. Sit with them and just listen.
Question for yourself what the relationship
is of these sensations to direct sensory experience
of the world all around.

I wonder what your motivation
is in sitting still in meditation. If you would
like to talk about that, please feel free to
write back. It may have some relationship to
what you are experiencing. Also, I'd be interested
to hear what it is you are doing during the
meditation time.

S: That was
definitly a great answer. I go into meditation
with wanting to experience, wanting to learn
from the experiences, wanting to explore, spiritually
grow and to escape the stress in this reality
we call life. I just wish I could understand
why certain things happen when I meditate.
I've had out-of-body experiences during meditation.
I really enjoy those.

Jay: It would
be interesting to watch carefully what this
stress is that you talk about. There are endless
cycles of getting stressed and relieving stress.
The only way for there to be some change toward
more equanimity is to come in touch with what
moves us during our daily activities.

Is it possible to watch what
dynamics are going on in the situations that
cause stress? This watching needs to include
not just what it seems like others are doing
to stress me but also what I am bringing to
the situation. What have I done or what attitude
have I conveyed that brought out their reaction?
How do I react to what others are doing?

What happens in sitting still
is mostly a reflection of how we have lived
during the day. Not totally, but mostly. It
can give clues as to where tension has been
and what has happened in me to add to that
tension.

You mentioned wanting to experience
but in fact most of the time we do not experience
what is going on, especially what is happening
internally, in the thoughts and feelings. It
is possible that for you the word experience
means feeling something in a specific way in
your body. Anything that is not that feeling
may not have much interest to you. I'm not
pointing a finger at you. I only say this because
it's true for me as well. It's ok to observe
honestly that a lot of experiences are of little
interest to me. It's also ok to notice the
consequences of that - boredom, desire for
intense experience, addiction to the things
or people that give me intense experience.

What I've described may not be
how things are for you. Hard to know since
we don't know each other. But these are some
things that can be observed carefully if they
are of interest.

You can also look at this frustration,
which you express in your comments, of wanting
to know what certain experiences mean. What
is the nature of this frustration? What is
its source? Are there alternatives to it? How
does it manifest in your interactions with
friends, family? At work? How does it affect
other people? How does it affect you? Are there
times when the frustration is enjoyable and
other times when it is unpleasant?

A certain part of the brain wants
to understand "what does this mean for
me? How does this fit into my image of myself
and the world." That is only one part
of the mind. Does it understand its own limitations?
If not, if it doesn't really seem like it has
limitations, then observe carefully.

I will be interested to keep
in touch as you explore. Please write back
with further questions/comments.

Stillness
and Anxiety
D: I have been studying Buddhism and meditation
for approximately 10 years now, although it
has only been in the last 18 months that I
have made transitioned my work from an academic
study to a spiritual practice.

I have based most of my meditation
thus far through in Zen practice, but read
more broadly as well. With that background,
on to my question:

I have felt that I have made
great introductory strides in my practice,
and am able to find a clear and still mind
with less and less effort as time goes on.
I have also felt the effect of these experiences
beyond the time set aside for practice. However,
within the last few weeks, I have actually
developed an increasing sense of (what I feel
is irrational) anxiety.

My wife and I were blessed with
the birth of our first child a few months ago.
We loved her from the start, but that love
is blossoming even more as time goes on. While
my meditation practice has allowed me to move
towards seeing the world as it is, and appreciating
the beauty and wonder in all the transient
details of life, I feel that it has also opened
a door in my heart to allow me to be more loving
and more compassionate than I ever have been
before, particularly towards my wife and child.

The negative consequence is that
I now have been almost consumed, at times in
debilitating or paralyzing ways, by anxiety
over the fragility of my young daughter's life,
by a consuming desire to ensure her life is
as full and beautiful as possible, and by a
general pain in contemplating the young lives
that do not experience that same full and beautiful
life, whether due to circumstance, illness,
or death.

I've stumbled across this conundrum,
which has caused quite a bit of confusion for
me. How is it that practicing, and what I feel
has been the development of some insight, has
aroused GREATER feelings of attachment and
GREATER feelings of anxiety than were there
before? One possibility is that they were there
all along but now I can see them for the first
time. Perhaps my practice has allowed me to
see things more clearly, but before I can truly
work on eliminating attachment, the first step
for me is to clearly appreciate just how strongly
I am attached to some things in this world.
On the other hand, I worry that I am driving
towards the wrong goals in my meditation practice
and creating new confusion.

Do you have any experience with
these types of moments, where breakthroughs
first appear to be setbacks or challenges?

I would appreciate your thoughts
and look forward to your input. Thank you in
advance for your time.

Jay:
I do appreciate what you are saying. We have
a three year old granddaughter and I can relate
to what you are feeling.

I would agree that meditative
presence leads to an increased sensitivity,
which includes both pleasure and pain.

You talk about breakthroughs
and setbacks. I'm taking a closer look at these.
By breakthrough, I think you are talking about
being able to have a clear and still mind and
to feel a little of this outside of formal
sitting as well.

I wonder if a goal has been set
up in the mind that a clear state of mind is
something to be cultivated. That perhaps the
"goal" of meditative work is to have
the clear state for longer periods over time
and to carry it into daily life. This is a
common internal goal. Some traditions reinforce
this but ultimately I think it is the nature
of a certain aspect of the human mind to believe
this.

I'm not saying there is anything
wrong when there is quiet and clarity in the
mind. It happens, especially if one learns
to take some quiet time and not overburden
the mind. But what has become increasingly
clear to me is that it does not matter what
the state of mind is. You may well protest
that if the state of mind doesn't matter, what
is the point of meditating. Isn't it about
a more peaceful state of mind?

I'll try to be clear then about
what I mean so that it is not misleading.

If there is a recognition that
a state of mind, a bunch of thoughts, images,
emotions, is active in the mind, what happens
next? We are talking about the fact that first
there is awareness that the mind is not quiet
and calm. If awareness depended on a calm mind,
then how could the awareness come in the first
place? It couldn't. The awareness of the state
of mind doesn't come from the state of mind.
It doesn't depend on it.

What's important is the awareness,
the fact that the contents of the mind/body
are revealed with some directness. Awareness
by itself has its own healing action, its own
creativity and its own wisdom. It may bring
up questions that help enter more deeply into
what is going on. Or it may suggest ways for
the body to move to feel more directly what
is happening in the emotions. We don't have
to consciously be responsible for these things
or to even consciously know what they are.

I think we can say that it is
relatively easy to be present when the mind
is quiet. It is maybe more of a stretch to
stay with the turmoil of the mind in activity.
Of course with thoughts that we enjoy, there
is often little incentive for presence. The
focus becomes the content of the thoughts,
acting on the thoughts. When something is disturbing,
then interest arises.

You hinted at a feeling that
if you weren't attached to your daughter, you
wouldn't have these negative and worrisome
thoughts. Let's distinguish deep and sensitive
feeling from 33her or look at her or play with
her? That would be deadness of the most callous
kind.

If I understand what you are
saying, part of what you are experiencing is
the incredible fragility of life. Maybe it
is more obvious in infants than in older people
but when I look carefully, the assumption that
my girlfriend or my brother or myself will
be alive tomorrow, an hour from now, even in
five minutes is only an assumption. Consider
the incredible delicacy of the system that
sustains life in us, that allows breathing
to continue and the heart to keep beating.
Consider the wild and vital energies of life
itself. Right now the wind is whipping up outside.
A tree limb could come careening through the
roof. The world is vast, powerful, ever changing,
unknowable and for the most part, uncontrollable.

In this light, the simple reality
of this moment seems incredibly precious, not
to be missed. When the concerns take over of
how to protect your daughter, how to pave the
way for her, or the fearful images come up
of all the things that could happen to her,
what happens to this precious moment right
here?

If the beauty of this simple
moment and the fact of death, disease, suffering,
emotional deadness, isolation - if these two
things seem unrelated or contradictory, then
sit with this puzzle with all your being. How
can this be? Carry this question in every moment,
because it is only in this present moment that
the reality of human nature can be understood.

I think we can stop here with
this inquiry. I don't know if I've addressed
your concern but do feel free to write back
so we can look at this together.

Spiritual
Progress

I'd like to consider the topic
of "spiritual progress." For most
of us, if someone asked how we felt about spiritual
progess personally, we'd probably say something
like "Well, I can look back and see that
things have gotten better" or maybe "I
don't really see anything changing but I have
faith that sitting or time or awareness or
something will help." Or maybe "Some
things have changed but I'm still such a mess
but I know I should just be patient."

What does the phrase "spiritual
progress" bring up? Doesn't this immediately
bring up a sense of what I've been in the past?
A sense of what I have suffered, maybe. What
has gone poorly. What I would dearly like to
change. And then an evaluation of whether anything
has changed or is likely to change in the future.

This is clearly memory –
stored pictures, information, the whole autobiography.
Is this clear? If you bring up memories of
who you have been, how people see you, that
these memories are only accessible because
they are stored imagery. The picture of myself.
The recorded 3D movie of myself.

As deeply ingrained as this story
of myself is, as hard-wired as it seems to
be to the emotions, to the sense of identity,
we can ask the question of how accurate this
picture is. Isn't it true that painful experience
tends to imprint itself into memory more strongly
than mildly pleasant experiences? Isn't it
true that as we walk through our lives now,
we usually only see small parts of what is
going on at any time and so our memory of an
experience – a walk down Central Avenue
– is only based on a tiny amount of what
was going on. And at that, it's only a very
inaccurate representation of what was going
on.

Maybe I come away from an experience
in which someone was critical of me and I'm
feeling sad, depressed that once again I've
alienated someone and that once again I've
let it make me critical of myself, etc. But
quite possibly at the time the person was talking
to me, there was also the sound of some birds
outside, or some cool wind, or some people
walking hand in hand or someone with a sad
look on their face. Somehow the mind only takes
one part of what was perceptible and engraves
that one part into memory. I didn't perceive
the other things.

And the memory of the person
being critical of me. How much did I really
hear accurately? Did I really hear where the
person was coming from? If not, did I try to
ask? Did I even hear what my concerns, judgments
and resentments were?

After the fact, that evening
of the next day, if the memory is brought up,
how much of what comes up is really an accurate
representation of what really went on? To me,
a close examination of this shows that most
of what is remembered is highly inaccurate,
not representative of the whole of what happened
in a moment and very inaccurate as far as capturing
the part of the situation that memory is trying
to capture.

Isn't it true that after a while,
our brain has learned to look for the same
old things and to therefore find the same old
things. And the rest of the world is not seen.

So coming back to spiritual progress,
isn't the idea of spiritual progress simply
based on the picture of who I have been and
the projection of how that picture ought to
look in the future (even if the future is multiple
life times away)? Isn't it based on an assumption
that the picture of who I have been, of what's
wrong with me, is accurate, reliable? That
I "know" who I have been?

As I sit here in front of the
computer, warmth of a heat lamp shining on
the skin, body a little crooked in the chair,
slight sensations in the arms, what is happening
right now? This is a living question. It calls
for in-touchness now. The idea of "progress"
seems irrelevant. It takes the mind away from
direct experience of the world as it is and
into theorizing -–which seems like being
asleep.

The heater clicking, fan humming
somewhere. At the same time the mind is not
discarded, shut off, ignored. It is open, silent
and still, wondering without knowing in in-touchness.
In a moment of wholeness the mind is not busy
putting down recordings of who I am and what
I will need to do about it. Wholeness is too
large and unknowable to record.

The minute thinking dominates,
the mind is filled with reviewing what I did,
what I've been, what I should do, what will
happen. When we talk together, this seems to
be much of what comes out and we share our
"strategies for spiritual progress."
But the questioning can come alive again and
again, in the middle of this thinking dominated
mind. Is there really any such thing as progress?
Let me look right here. What do I mean by it?
Is it anything other than a thought reaction
to the whole memory story of myself?

Looking, looking, looking. Listening
into the unknowable that is right here, letting
the even the question drop into silence and
yet continuing to listen, to be, beyond knowing.

Dialogue
and Irritation

I'm prompted to write a little
about the group verbal inquiry because of some
dynamics in our last group meeting, as well
as some experiences at the recent retreat at
Springwater that I attended.

In the group we are purposely
abstaining from some of the usual ways of communicating
– giving advice, rattling off experiences,
telling our stories and encouraging others
to tell their stories, encouraging or acknowledging
each other – in order to leave room for
the possibility of a deeper listening. By deeper
listening, I am thinking of the possibility
of hearing myself as I speak, hearing where
I'm coming from, what I'm trying to convey,
if anything. Deeper listening for me has come
to mean listening to the words of other people
and letting those words sink in. To do this
I usually have to refrain from my habitual
quick reaction. Deeper listening also seems
to require that I am patient with the fact
that I may not understand what someone is saying
or that there is a conversation going on between
two people that doesn't involve me.

The usual ways of talking mentioned
above may give a sense of safety to ordinary
conversation. I may feel that I can communicate
in a social setting pretty well because I say
the things that make other people feel good
about me. In a setting where we put aside those
"niceties," some people may feel
uncomfortable. Of course there are other people
who don't feel comfortable in ordinary conversation.
I don't know if they will feel even more uncomfortable
when we drop the conventions or if they will
feel relief that they can just speak honestly
or just listen.

In part because of the fact that
the usual conventions of conversation have
been put aside, there are some dynamics that
happen in the groups that I think are helpful
to recognize. In fact part of the value of
the group inquiry is to have a chance to hear
how we listen, react and talk. I'm just talking
about these from my own observations, which
may not be everyone's experience. I have seen
in myself and others a certain kind of irritation
come up. For me this irritation often goes
along with a feeling that I don't understand
what someone else is saying. It may sound superficial
to me or it may sound like they are just talking
on and on. The irritation sometimes goes along
with the feeling that I haven't got the energy
to listen to this – that the other person's
talking is somehow sapping my energy. Often
there is a judgment that also goes along with
this that the other person is being heady or
is out of touch or is dominating or controlling
the group. And there is the feeling that this
is not what I want to have happen. I want to
have the energy go in a different way.

I used to feel pretty convinced
that my judgment of the other person was correct.
Recently in a Springwater group I felt that
someone was just talking superficially and
that the kind of thing they were talking about
wasn't helpful. I said this out loud to the
group, maybe as a question, with some irritation
in my voice, "Why are you saying this?
This doesn't sound to me like it's helpful."
Another participant in the group spoke up then
and said that what the person had said had
in fact been very helpful to them. I believed
what this person said.

Another time I said something
in that group that I thought really addressed
what was going on in a discussion between a
few of us. Someone else (who I've known for
many years) said something to the effect that
what I said was just a lot of empty words,
that it was too intellectual. I asked the group
if everyone felt that way and two people said
that on the contrary they thought that what
I'd said really did address what we were talking
about.

As strong as my feelings (and
other people's feelings) were that someone's
words were superficial, intellectual, maybe
self-centered, it turns out that this is not
the whole truth. This is a beginning, for me,
of really questioning how I'm hearing other
people.

Consider how damaging it is to
oneself and others to come out of a meeting
really believing that certain people were inconsiderate,
irritating, insensitive to others, too intellectual.
It would be nice if this kind of dynamic can
come out in the meetings with some transparency.
By this I mean hearing these reactions going
on in oneself and continuing to listen anyway,
with patience, to see what really unfolds.
It may also be helpful for someone to bring
up that they are, perhaps, not comfortable
with how the conversation is going. After all,
the group is a place for issues that are live
right now to come out. What is more live and
present than the strong feeling that someone
else in the group is being a huge, irritating
jerk? Is there a way to bring up this feeling
with an interest in seeing our own buttons
that are being pushed as well as an interest
in and respect for the other person?

After our last meeting in Albuquerque
someone was kind enough to call me and give
some feedback. The person said that at one
point I had sounded irritated, maybe angry,
and that my voice sounded like I was straining
against something. How rare it is for someone
to give such honest feedback, and no wonder!
We usually react against this kind of information,
thinking "they don't really understand
where I was coming from" or "I was
justified to act that way," etc., etc.
But it can also be possible to just listen
to the feedback – without knowing if
it is accurate or not – and see for oneself
what it points out.

This same person also said that
I was advocating "oblivion." She
said this in response to something that I said
about listening without any self-perspective
whatsoever. She apparently interpreted this
as oblivion, though I don't know what oblivion
means to her. I wouldn't use the word oblivion
as it has nothing to do with an annihilation
of the senses or of intelligence or love. On
the contrary, I was referring to a setting
aside of the very thing that blocks the free
flow of sensing, feeling, clear thinking and
compassion. It was good that she brought up
her interpretation. It's possible that she
believed thoroughly that I was talking about
oblivion. This seems to be how our interpretations
of each other work. We have an interpretation
and we believe it's precise. It's so helpful
to bring up something like this – not
just to stuff it into the back room of the
mind and go away thinking that people in the
group have weird ideas.

I wonder if it's possible for
anyone to just start from scratch in the verbal
inquiry assuming that our reactions to other
people are probably not accurate and often
not even close to what's going on. Then we
need to listen patiently to each other and
ask some questions to see if we can understand
where the other person is coming from. Or just
let the words and sounds come in without needing
to make too much sense of them right now.

Visual
Images

Question: I started meditating
about four months ago in an attempt to manage
law school stress. I've set my practice (imperfectly)
to 20 minutes in the morning and 20 minutes
at night. I'll cut to the chase: I see intense,
vibrant shapes and patterns when I meditate.
My closed-eye visuals range from undulating
tapestries and planetary orbs to certain repeat-player
animal shapes to light tunnels.

I wasn't surprised by this because
ever since I was little I've experienced these
types of visuals - particularly bright colored,
elaborate tapestries - pretty much whenever
I close my eyes. Perhaps it bears mentioning
that I remember this occurring way before any
college-age drug experimentation took place.

Anyway, I just assumed everyone
had this, that it was some sort of blood-in-the-retina
situation with a very dry scientific explanation.
However, when I casually mentioned one of my
recently reoccurring visions (of Saturn - and
no, I'm not into astrology) to a friend who
also meditates, her reaction alarmed me. She
seemed dumbfounded. Upon further investigation,
I fast learned that the vast majority of people
don't experience anything like this. So my
question to you is: what is going on? Is there
an explanation? Thanks!!

Jay: I remember
having something similar when I was a kid.
When I closed my eyes, I would see almost like
a movie playing in what was distinctly a small,
framed screen. It reminded me of a wrestling
ring because you would only see the small lighted,
square area in the middle of darkness.

These visions are fascinating
in a way, aren't they? Also, discovering that
other people don't experience them, there is
a sense of being special and unique, which
is probably added to by the fact that the experiences
are private. They're inside me where other
people can't see them, even if they wanted
to.

You asked if there is an explanation.
Many people ask if these experiences have any
meaning. You didn't ask that specifically.

I'm sure there is a neurological
explanation. But if you want to find out if
there is any value in these experiences, even
if it's just entertainment, I think you will
need to take some time to stick with it and
see what happens. I imagine that these visual
images occur most strongly when you can be
still and are not putting additional information
into the brain, meaning you aren't reading,
watching TV, listening to music, talking to
people. Meditation usually involves "unplugging"
from these loud, external inputs in order to
be able to hear what is happening inside more
subtly.

If you can give yourself a little
more time of doing this, you can watch what
happens when the nervous system gets a good,
refreshing holiday from constant input. You
can find out what happens if the visioning
is given enough chance to do what it needs
to do.

You might also observe what other
kind of sensory awareness there is when the
visions are going on. Does the watching of
the visions prevent you from feeling the weight
of the body on the chair or floor, the small
sounds around you, the feel of air on the skin?
Or can all of this - which is actually present,
just not usually noticed - be experienced as
well as the visions?

There is a great deal that becomes
noticeable when we take enough time to quietly
listen. In fact, there is a whole wide world
that may eventually become noticeable. The
usual boundaries that we live in can start
to fade and open up, become transparent, so
that we feel our interconnectedness with everything
around us, not abstractly or intellectually,
but directly, right here.

Sitting still is probably helpful
for destressing from law school studies. Part
of destressing is the nervous system sort of
throwing off random overload in the form of
sensations, visions, dreams, etc. But there
is also this possibility of opening more deeply
to what we are, beyond what we know and what
we control. If you have extra time to devote
to this deep listening without knowing, you
may find that it is bottomless.

If you have some additional questions
or if I haven't been very clear about something,
please feel free to write back.

Questioner:
Thank you, Jay, for your thoughtful and thorough
response. Thank you also for sharing your own
unique childhood experience with closed-eye
visuals. I will continue to sit. Perhaps my
practice will help me to shatter the illusion
of my separateness and cultivate an experience
of interconnectedness. I imagine that this
would be very comforting, and intensely practical
too. The visuals remain something of a mystery
to me, and that's okay. Mysteries are comforting
as well.
warmly,
A

Jay: I'm glad
to hear back from you. Yes, so much is really
a mystery. I have found that things that need
to reveal themselves will, eventually, if they
are given enough open space and are left alone.
But you will find your own way with this if
you have the chance to sit regularly.

As for the interconnectedness,
the amazing thing that can be discovered if
you persist with this is that it's here all
the time. Just that our way of perceiving and
filtering information usually blocks it out.
It's not a result of looking at things a certain
way or of holding onto a certain perspective.
It's more accurate to say that undividedness
is revealed when the patterns of thinking that
create a sense of isolation give way. It's
like the sun shining through when the clouds
part. It's obvious the sun was there all the
time. It wasn't created by somebody parting
the clouds.

Since most of the time we don't
see things that way, it can be very helpful
to make a careful and compassionate study of
how the sense of isolation and separateness
works. How it functions, how it feels, the
thoughts behind it, the fears and concerns
behind it. Since the sense of separation is
nearly always with us, this study can be done
all the time. Since this affects not only us
individually but nearly every human being nearly
all the time, this careful observation is not
just for our own personal benefit but for everyone's.

The interesting thing is that
this kind of interest in the inner workings
of the mind and the kind of transparency -
meaning a willingness to observe oneself honestly
- is already the working of the undivided mind.
The mind that is not trying to defend and hide
itself from the light of observation but rather
is interested in the observable truth, no matter
what that brings. It's like the action of the
sun warming the clouds and starting to melt
them. The sun is still invisible but it is
functioning behind the scenes, in the dark.

As a law student, you may be
interested in the concept of justice. Most
negotiations between people - including the
system of law that regulates our negotiations
as individuals and as a society - are based
on what I want versus what you want. Even what
is considered to be justice is still what society
wants versus what an individual wants. It can
be a good question to ask if there is any possibility
of interaction between people that is not based
on the power play of me versus you.

You didn't say where you go to
law school. I kept thinking of Ann Arbor, Michigan,
where I went to undergrad, where I first learned
about meditation and where one of my best friends
went to law school. If you are in the east
part of the country, I can highly recommend
the Springwater Center in western NY as a good
place to go to an extended retreat in a non-traditional,
open setting that allows you to find your own
way. There are many very experienced meditators
that attend retreats there.

Questioner: Thank you Jay. I
am at Fordham Law School in New York. I recently
began researching possible meditation retreats
in my area but had nothing much to go on. Your
endorsement of the Springwater Center is very
welcome indeed. So thank you.
Your thoughts on our adversarial system of
law are very interesting. There are movements
in the law now that aim to bring a more collaborative
spirit to conflict resolution. I am attracted
to these movements. I can see now that my decision
to apply to law school in my early thirties
was primarily fear and ego driven. Ironically,
however, it is law school that has brought
me closer to becoming who I really am. The
combined stress of being steeped in the 'what
I want v. what you want' along with some painful
events that have occurred in my life recently
is what brought me to a practice of meditation
and yoga. The world that unfolds before me
when i quieten enough - this undivided mind
source you speak of - is what is keeping me
open and willing right now.
Thank you for your thoughts, and for your kindness.
Warmly,
A

What Next?

January 2009. B:
I have been meditating for over two decades-
gone through the up and down associating w/
meditation in general. Good thing to say though
that I am a much better person now, through
the changes over the years.

I practice mainly the awareness
type meditation. Three years ago, I started
noticing the intense awareness of surrounding
through my eyes. I could look and see the beauty
of things in the daily live. This experience
happened before but it didn't last, and I had
to put an effort trying to reach it.

Anyway, now I start noticing
the awareness moving up to my forehead. The
awareness of things around me is much faster
than at the eyes, or physical level. Thought?
No thought!- just the awareness of what is
going on. I know one thing is that the mind
can only concentrate at one thing a time. So,
either awareness or thought. It doesn't take
much effort to be aware of myself, the things
I was doing and surrounding. I can sit w/ my
eyes closed- meditating or standing up w/ eyes
opened, and the awareness is there. Again,
no thought- OK thought is there, then it's
gone. I can sit for a moment or hours if I
want to- w/ no concern of pain/ numbness (although
it is there still).

When I face w/ difficulty as
everyone else, I look for ways to handle it
using whatever is available at the time. I
don't look for excuse or ask why it happened
that way- just look for an answer. I deal w/
the issues at the personal level- basically
decision made reflecting the person I am here
and now- not how it should be or could be.
I am trying to bring this awareness more to
the daily live, yet still exploring even further
spiritually. What can I look forward to? How
can I strengthen my spiritual self even further.
There was a time long ago I was seriously thinking
of becoming a monk. But, then I realized that
even a monk has to work and face things just
like normal people. Hmm.... what should I do
next? Any insights will be appreciated.

Thanks very much for your time,
I am sure your kindness will be returned in
favor one way or another.

Jay: Let's look at this together
right now. You ask "What's next? What
should I do to strengthen my spiritual self
even further?"

What is it that asks this question?
Sitting here at the computer, the warm air
on the skin, sounds of fans and furnace clicking,
the brain can ask what's next, what will happen
in the future, what should I do. These questions
are part of history, part of the story of me.
They are built into memory, remembering what
I have done and evaluating where I think I
am now and trying to project what should be
done next. This is all the activity of memory.
When this quiets down, this quiet room with
its sounds and feelings is revealed more clearly,
along with the silence and spaciousness in
which it exists. When the memory is active,
there is confusion and anxiety in the mind
and body about what to do next. When memory
is quiet, there is stillness, there is what
is here and there is a doing of something if
it is needed now, without anxiety or worry.
Memory active - confusion. Memory quiet - natural
response as needed.

I am only really alive when memory
is not turned on and there is presence. As
you say, no thought, just awareness. Why bother
with what I think I've done in the past to
get to this point? Whatever I remember about
what I have done, it is not what I have really
done. It is only a very limited recording of
certain events. Most of what I did and what
really influenced me in the past is not only
not remembered but it is not rememberable,
not knowable.

Where have I arrived at through
all my hard work over the years? How do I push
it further? This thought also comes from memory,
doesn't it? The memory of having struggled,
having suffered, having gotten something in
return. The projection in imagination into
the future of how I have to keep going in a
good direction. But looking right Here, what
have I gotten? In reality much has actually
been dropped, been given away. What is left
has been here all the time.

Looking carefully at this moment
of awareness, is there anything at all missing?
If there is a sense of something missing, then
is it possible to come in touch with that sense,
to keep looking, keep awaring each moment until
you can discover if there really is something
missing right here. If there is something missing,
it must be Here. So look Here more deeply,
look more carefully, listen and feel more carefully,
more subtly. Become very subtly and carefully
and accurately aware of the listener, the awarer.
What is it? The listener and that which is
listened to both fully in awareness at the
same time, in the same space, nothing left
out.

Let's look at the question again,
What did I do in the past to get here, to a
place of maybe some openness and equanimity?

Is it not true that nearly all
of what we did in the past, most of us, is
to think, to imagine what we are, to try to
figure out what to do about it, to react to
events and people around us in habitual and
inappropriate ways and to try to find or build
new patterns that might protect us from the
suffering that is created from living this
way continually?

Occassionally this self absorption
of thought stopped for us in the past and there
was a moment of beauty and simplicity and completeness.
Just briefly and then thought took over again
and perhaps made a story about it. What did
you do to get to a moment of no thought? The
question doesn't apply. The moment of no thought
happens when "me" is not operating.
"Me" didn't do it. Thought, memory,
patterns of behavior can only cover over presence.
They don't create presence. Presence is already
here. It's all there is.

So you don't need to worry about
how to create or maintain awareness. It's not
your responsibility because it's not possible
to create or maintain. Just watch and listen
carefully every moment and notice how the mind
wants to know and wants to do something to
keep you safe and wants to find answers. See
if it is possible for this mind to become completely
visible so that it is obvious whenever it wants
to do something.

Sitting Here, body moving with
the breath, heaviness in tired eyelids, there
is no need for being anything in particular.
No need for perfection, no need for growth,
no need to know what happened before or what
should happen next. There is just aliveness.
Is anything missing? Listen and listen and
listen!

Please write back if something
here has not been very clear or doesn't seem
right to you or if you want to explore some
of this further.

B: "Just
watch and listen carefully every moment and
notice how the mind wants to know and wants
to do something to keep you safe and wants
to find answers. See if it is possible for
this mind to become completely visible so that
it is obvious whenever it wants to do something."

Everything mentioned previously
sounds very familiar. On watching the mind
wanting to do something- I thought I am supposed
to guard the mind from wandering/ keep the
lid on it as mind goes from one place to another.
An apple turns into a football, so on and so
forth.

How will I know how the mind
will reveal itself? Is there something obvious
I need to pay attention to? There were times
when I "felt" I had to do certain
thing, of course w/ out thinking of doing it
before. Is this what you are talking about?

Jay: The mind
reveals itself all the time. For example, if
you smell something burning, the mind presents
the fact that there is danger and it searches
through memory until it recognizes that the
smell matches the memory for eggs burning and
the brain may present an image of getting up
and going quickly to the kitchen or there may
be no image but the muscles are activated along
with some adrenaline and one gets up and goes
to the kitchen.

The problem is that our field
of attention is usually very small. We may
only be listening to our thoughts and inner
words. Because the field of attention is too
small, the activity of the mind is not seen
clearly.

The key is to stay in a wide
open field of attention (unless your situation
requires you to focus on something like driving
or having a conversation). How do you find
a wide open field of attention? Listen with
the whole body and mind. Let the attention
include the body, the inner feeling of the
body. Listen through the body into the space
around the body. You will find that there is
no real borderline between what we think of
as the body and the whole world. Listen with
all of this and forget about the mind.

Then if a thought comes up, the
thought will hold still and its deepest contents
are revealed in a moment. If the field of attention
is wide, there is room for thoughts to reveal
themselves clearly, not squeezed or pressured
as when the field of attention is narrow.

There is no need to guard the
mind. Guarding is a narrow field. Experiment
with this wide field and you will find that
thoughts are not a problem when they come up
in wide open awareness because there is an
amazing intelligence in this wide space of
awareness and that intelligence takes care
of things.

If you find thoughts acting in
a disturbing way, see if it is possible for
more space to open up for them. Feel how the
thoughts move in the body, what they press
on, where they create tension. See if it is
possible for these areas to open more to create
more space. If the whole body seems open but
thoughts are still disturbing, see if it is
possible to open up beyond the body into the
world itself.

When everything is wide open,
the whole world, body and mind are transparent.
Anything that comes up is revealed clearly
in its own instant without tension or conflict.

It doesn't matter whether you
see thoughts in the mind or don't see any thoughts.
The only important thing is the wide openness
of awareness - unlimited space in which things
can appear as they need or if nothing appears
just this space of being. It doesn't matter
what is seen. Only the fact of seeing, of wide
open presence is important. It is just the
universe being itself, complete in this moment.
That is all. That is everything.

I'm glad you asked for some clarification.
That's helpful for both of us. Please let me
know if you have some other questions that
come up now, or if something comes up as you
explore this.

B: October 2009.
First, I need to thank you for the advice you
gave me early this year.

I have been meditating mainly
on being aware of things around me: the feeling/sensation/thought/sight.
Sometimes, I sit w/ my eyes opened and just
look- knowing that I was just looking and not
really get in too deep as far as what I was
looking. Sometimes, I would "look"
at things, still not getting in too deep and
too involve w/ the thoughts from seeing. Sometimes,
just walking and aware that I was simply "walking".
Just being aware of what I was doing at the
moment, yes it was interesting to notice that
while really focus on one thing, I was also
aware of many things around me : thought, senses,
noises- like seeing at the corner of my eyes
while reading (not too deep). As I was aware
of what was going on around me, I noticed the
peace inside me which I didn't really have
to look/search for. The peace is always there.

Although, I have this experience
before for past couple of years. I was not
sure if I was on the right track. I had been
meditating mostly on the concentration type,
and everything else but "awareness".
At time, I noticed that I was too focus and
everything else didn't really meet my expectation
as my brain/ concentration were racing full
force. Sometimes, I felt angry as I wanted
to be in peaceful moment, and I either had
to do something else, except sitting/meditating
in peace. Or someone/ something had to disrupt
me. Yes, I was at peace- ususally, and my concentration
was good, but I felt I was not progress as
I should. Even while sitting, I felt I had
to rush eventhough there was not where to go.
I always I had to rush to reach certain stage,
certain level.

To certain point, I was also
not happy and at peace w/ myself. I could understand
the story why someone would ignore his career/
family and everything else to just sit next
to the river talking to him being at peace
w/ himself. (This perhaps is a pit fall as
mentioned in the advance study of medition-
a book I found at the Thai temple in MD). Sometimes,
I noticed the awareness, when I really looked
at something - almost like looking at picture,
but moving picture. There was a sense of peace
inside, and the aware of surrounding. Yet,
I wasn't sure if I was on the right track.
And, I started searching for more. It was also
difficult to talk and ask questions since many
teachers may be stuck "searching"
for peace themselves.

Anyway, having experienced the
awareness before, along w/ the meditation of
this type, I understood right away what you
told me to do. Now, it has been several months
since I committed to it, I feel at peace- but
not because I had to look for it. The awareness
simply guides me there. As mentioned before,
I notice many things around me simultaneously-
yet still aware of what I was focusing on.
I don't feel I need to be anywhere, trying
to reach certain level. Just being aware of
this very moment- if there is something needs
to be done, I will sense it and it's time to
go do it. By being aware of the moment, I feel
at peace inside, even if people/ things are
distracting- I am aware of this too.

I don't exact have a career-
just doing odd jobs here and there after leaving
my NASA work ten years ago. Now, I feel I am
on the right path spiritually. I am still not
sure what the destiny has in me - but everytime
I am aware of the moment I feel everything
will be fine and no one can take it from me.
Not exactly, extraordinary things, as some
friends of mine expecting to see me "float",
like a typical "Guru"- if there is
such a thing. In dreams, yes, I was flying
w/ my hands pushing myself above the ground.
But, in reality, people would be flocking to
me expecting that I solve their problems, or
healing someone. Not saying that I don't want
to really make a different, yes, I really want
to be able to heal and take pains away- I just
don't know how! Unfortunately, I have to consult
Ms. Destiny as well. Everyday, I do what I
can, to make different regardless of how small-
at the same time trying to make an honest living.
Sometimes, I feel the uncertainty, but I let
awareness by my guide which then turn the unfortunate
into opportunity. The difficult time which
most of us are facing currently, is not so
bad afterall. To me, survival now takes a back
seat, doing what I am to do is most important.
Again, the awareness lets me know what I need
to do.

Thanks again. And, you are welcome to add your
insight to this, along w/ advise that you may
have. I am sure this is just begining but to
a different direction.

Jay: It's nice that you have
discovered the peacefulness that comes when
the mind is not trying so hard to get away
from this moment. And the intelligence to -
somehow - know what to do when it is necessary
to do something. All of it coming without having
to try.

The mind works best when it is
simply a receiver. And it can't simply receive
if it is trying to focus or trying to react
to something. Even when there is some kind
of action, if it comes from just listening,
the action does not make the mind noisy. The
mind can stay quiet, receptive, even in doing,
even in thinking when necessary.

You mentioned some little thoughts
about "what to do next" or about
being helpful. In some ways you can see that
these are just thoughts. I don't have to know
what I will do next. But the thought comes
up. It's a thought about "myself".
There is imagery behind it of what I am, what
I was, what I will be. In sitting quietly,
presently, these thoughts may not come up at
all. What a relief. Then the thought comes
back. What will happen to me in the future?
Will I just sit and do nothing? Shouldn't I
have a goal, like helping other people? Or
even a goal of just going around in presence
doing the appropriate thing, and how people
will see me and be impressed or maybe inspired.
All of this is the brain making imagery about
itself because that is what it is trained to
do. It doesn't want to stop.

It is also possible that there
are things in the mind - past memories, patterns,
habits, reactions, assumptions - things that
do need to come into the light. They can come
into the light whenever there is a moment with
no focus, no need to know, forgetting about
everything because what is right here is so
present. I personally find that a seven day
retreat is the best way for me to give these
deeper patterns a chance to come out more clearly
and fully. This is seven days of living in
a very simple, direct way, along with other
people.

I would recommend this very much.
I personally go two or three times a year,
maybe more. It is very helpful. There is a
kind of unknowable "going deeper"
that happens on its own.

Many retreat places impose certain
kinds of tradition or practices or requirements
that sometimes seem to interfere with just
the opportunity for simple presence. I can
recommend the Springwater Center in NY as a
place that provides a very simple, direct retreat
and yet has people there who have done this
work for many years.

We are also holding a seven day
retreat here in New Mexico the first week of
December.

If you have not been to something
like this, I think you will find that it is
just what you have wanted - the chance to be
in deep presence, with others, in Nature, for
a good long time.

I will look forward to hearing
how things are going for you.

Disturbing
questions about meditation and presence

D: I have so
many questions I am not sure which one to ask
or how to condense it into one question.

Something is bothering me and
depressing me now that I have come to realise
that in essence the only way to obtain enlightenment
is to become aware of the present moment, the
"Now".

One has to leave the analytical
mind and the ego and become aware of the "I"
that is behind your thoughts. This "I"
being the formless "Self". This I
thought one could do in formal meditation but
now am told that this is not the case.

I used to read books by Dr Paul
Brunton and other books on Spirituality. I
used to be a member of the Rosicrucian Order.
I was always searching for the Truth because
I wanted to find something that would make
me feel secure with Life.

I previously thought that the
practise of formal meditation would help the
meditator to achieve a certain degree of peace
and security and that Life would flow more
pleasantly. But now after having read "The
Power of Now" by Echart Tolle I realised
that formal meditation fails to arrive at the
Self because in doing meditation, you are still
aware of "yourself" and the "object"
which is doing meditation as pointed out by
Sri Ramana Maharshi.

When I first read the book "The
Power of Now" I noticed Eckhart Tolle
did not indicate any formal meditation technique
to practise on. Now I am discovering this more
and more. Not only Sri Ramana Maharshi, but
also Jiddu Krishnamurti and Toni Parker all
seem to advocate on training oneself to be
aware of the present moment, to sense the "I"
behind all your thoughts and action.

Okay fine. But this is going
to be really hard for me. I have to admit that
I was always lazy in doing my meditations but
at least I had in the back of my mind the thought
that if I did eventually do my meditation on
a more constant daily basis I would get somewhere.
Now, I find that I am being told this is no
longer the case and I have been robbed of my
psychological security blanket, if that makes
any sense.

I was led to believe that in
doing formal meditation it was to learn to
still the mind, to cease the "chatter"
of the mind so that one can open up to the
"Higher Self" and tune in to its
Holy promptings and feel protected, secure
and at peace. Thereby as one becomes more adept
in meditation one feels less troubled and knocked
about by the vicissitudes of Life.

Now I discover I have to try
to be just aware of the Present and the Self
that is behind my everyday thoughts and actions.
But just by being aware of this, is it really
going to make all that much of a difference
to me as a novice? Is that all there is to
it as an exercise? Is this going to be enough
to make an impact on me?

What I mean to say is, it is
going to be hard for me to remember every time
to observe my "Higher Self" the next
time I am in an argument or going through some
unpleasant emotion. Or if I suddenly have a
bad accident - end up being paralyzed for example
- then all I have to do is just accept the
situation. Will I have enough mental and spiritual
strength to accept it? Will I get the peace?
Am I strong enough for it?

I was led to believe once that
formal meditation would help, that it gave
you the peace and mind strength. Now I'm told
that it is useless.

Is there no form of meditation
that I can now follow that would help me to
be aware of the "I" and the Present
Moment?

Just to be aware of the "I"
behind my thoughts and that's it? It is so
vague this exercise or too simple that I feel
that I would forget to use it throughout the
day.

I'm sorry, I am not sure if I
am making myself understood. I don't even know
why this is bothering me. Sometimes I wish
I was the ignorant man on the street with all
his illusions. At least he "thinks"
that he will be happy one day. Whereas I am
at a stage now where unfortunately I know the
Truth in that I know Life is always going to
have suffering and that depresses me.

Now I am robbed of the efficacy
of formal meditation, because formal meditation
is only temporary so I am led to understand.

So now what? What exactly do
I do now to feel secure in Life? I know that
one must accept the Present, but that is going
to be extremely difficult to do when Life hits
you hard. Easy to say but hard to do in practise.

Jay: I do understand
what you're talking about. I can definitely
relate to it.

I don't know if we'll be able
to touch on all of what you've brought up here.
Let's start with your comment "Something
is bothering me and depressing me now that
I have come to realise that in essence the
only way to obtain enlightenment is to become
aware of the present moment, the 'Now'."

I don't exactly how you are experiencing
this but I get the impression that there is
perhaps a struggle set up in your mind between
the idea of "enlightenment" and the
idea of "becoming aware of Now."
Do you think it's true that for you the idea
of enlightenment has become a highly charged
desire? And that the idea of becoming aware
of the Now seems like a huge, almost impossibly
focused effort that stands in the way of getting
what you would like - enlightenment?

As I write this, the dynamic
I just described seems almost obvious. How
could these two ideas not be in conflict?

Let's look behind the scenes
a little bit at what the idea of enlightenment
really represents for you. Actually, you will
have to do this yourself, since I can't read
your mind. I remember a point, after a number
of years of "working hard" in retreats,
years of sort of banging my head against the
wall of "practice" because I was
told that's what I was supposed to do, it suddenly
struck me that I had no idea why I was doing
this. I began to wonder at what my original
motivation for doing meditative work was in
the first place. I began looking back into
my earlier life to see what had concerned me
even before I ever heard of meditation - the
things that I observed as a child and as a
teenager that bothered me and upset me, my
questions about my life and about how I saw
others living.

What does enlightenment mean
to you, anyway? Clearly you have images of
what it is because those images motivate you
strongly. Can you examine freshly what you
believe you have been trying to do all these
years of meditation? Can you question whether
what has motivated you is valid or not? Examine
it from scratch? The questions may come up
taking different forms from how I'm putting
them but do you get the sense of really looking
at what has been moving you all these years?

Now let's consider what it means
to you to "become aware of the present
moment, the Now." Again, the mind certainly
has imagery about this. You said that one "has
to leave the analytical mind and the ego and
become aware of the 'I' that is behind your
thoughts." Why do you say this?? There
are a tremendous number of assumptions behind
that statement. Please understand that I'm
not trying to put you down for making the statement.
On the contrary, I am wondering if that belief
is part of what's making you depressed. What
an impossible task, to leave the analytical
mind and to leave the ego.

Maybe I'm being a little too
Zenny with that last statement but, really,
honestly, what do you mean by "analytical
mind"? Have you observed such a thing
for yourself? I would say that if you have,
you will have seen that it is not a problem.
It is not something to get rid of or put aside.
The same with "ego". Everyone talks
about this, especially in spiritual circles,
but what do you really mean by it? Have you
observed it carefully, patiently, lovingly,
relentlessly, accurately, inquisitively? If
it actually exists, it should be observable
in this way.

You have described your understanding
of what Krishnamurti and Toni Packer have advocated.
I wonder if the image you have of what this
work would be like, in theory, is part of what
is causing anxiety. When you say "Is there
no form of meditation that I can now follow
that would help me to be aware of the "I"
and the Present Moment? " are you not
crying out for something to hold onto mentally?
Something to do, something to repeat, something
to focus on, something to get better at? Have
you tested it out to see if you really need
something like that? Are you imaging that there
is a purpose in being relatively aware of what
is going on this moment?

I think your idea of being aware
of the "I" every moment is too complicated.
Did someone really say you have to do this?
I have worked with Toni Packer for 30 years.
I've never heard her say you have to do this.
And even if someone said something like that,
why do you think they know any better than
you do, if you yourself have examined something
very carefully and thoroughly? What do you
even mean by the "I"? I'm not asking
you for a theoretical description or explanation.
I'm wondering if you have examined this carefully
for yourself to see if there is any such thing
that you have to worry about. Examined it to
your own thorough satisfaction.

You said "Just to be aware
of the "I" behind my thoughts and
that's it? It is so vague this exercise or
too simple ..." Let's look at Awareness,
Presence, Now, in a different, simpler way,
forgetting about trying to find some "I"
behind the thoughts. Sitting down, staying
relatively still, comfortable, not struggling
against the body, what is really here this
moment? Listening, interested. Not listening
"for" anything but just open to what
is here. On first sitting down, the noise of
the mind can be heard. And frequently consciousness
is lost and there is daydreaming. And then
rewaking from daydream, realizing that dreaming
had been going on. All of this happens on its
own - the falling asleep, the waking up.

Sitting here, this moment, the
glare of the computer screen, the sound of
fans, the feel of the chair, the words appearing
on the screen as the mind expresses something
through the medium of thought and language.
Tiredness, interest. The dark night sky.

All of this is visible in a simple direct way
that is not caused by anything I do. It is
just visible when the mind is not creating
too much noise. Trying to be aware of an I
is the making of noise. Listening, perceiving,
quietly is noise quieting down.

Most of what we do is the making
of noise. Have you noticed this? In our lives,
our relationships, our spirituality. The setting
up of goals, practices, skills to secure our
safety and avoid future pain. I'm not saying
some of this may not be appropriate. It's just
that we have lost the subtlety to distinguish
what is the making of noise and what is noiseless
listening. And because of that, we fill our
lives with exhausting noise and we die without
ever having experienced even a moment of what
we really are - out of fear of what might become
of us and the restlessness that comes from
this fear. Isn't this true?

If there is any wise advice at
all, it might be to, once in a while, forget
the whole world of human troubles, of human
wisdom and spiritual goals - and see if it
is at all possible to be alive for a moment
at a time, even just once before I die.

You mention wanting security.
What is absolutely certain is that this brain
with all of its exhausting plotting for its
own safety and serenity, will end. I remember
when my father died a year and a half ago,
at age 91, part of the feelings that swept
through me was the sense of how all of the
things that we had all worried about for him
- his ongoing health struggles, his concerns
about his independence, financial worries,
at the end even the ability to breath - all
of this was gone! And it was clear what a burden
it had been. Not that some of it might not
have been necessary at the time. On his last
night I looked at his face and noticed that
it had a beautiful look to it, almost a youthfulness
among the wrinkles. It may be that he had already
dropped his concerns about all of these things
and was able to be simply present for his last
hours, with a joy and equanimity that most
of us rarely experience.

Presence is not something to
be practiced. It's not a technique for accomplishing
any mental skills. It is just a moment of how
life really is. We all do have these moments,
fleetingly, but our priorities are usually
somewhere else. Too simple?

If you are really interested
in Presence, do you have the opportunity to
go to week long retreat someplace where the
emphasis is simple presence? The Springwater
Center, where Toni Packer is, is one of the
few places I know of where this happens. I
can recommend it wholeheartedly.

I may not have been too clear
about a lot of what I've written, so please
feel free to write back and ask for clarification
or correct how I've interpreted your question.

D: First of
all let me just say thank you for taking your
time and energy just to read my "egotistical
ranting" and to go out of your way to
help me. I appreciate your service.

First of all I have for many
years been interested in the meaning of Life
when I was a teenager at university and I was
always seeking for the Truth. From that I have
read books on mysticism, spirituality and I
even joined the Rosicrucian Order of which
now I am no longer a member.

As a result of all this searching
I have discovered that meditation was definitely
one of the the ways forward and the added practice
of overall body exercise; such as just "feeling"
the energy in your feet, legs, abdomen all
the way up to the top of one's head.

Trouble with mysticism and spirituality
is that it is a subject that is so "airy-fairy"
it is difficult to know who indeed knows the
Truth and the "practical way" to
meet Life's challenges. There are a lot of
spiritual teachers who profess to know the
"Way" and a lot of them are false
and on a ego trip and it is difficult at times
to know who are genuine. There are a lot of
false prophets out there.

I believe there is only one timeless
spiritual TRUTH that is the essence of all
religions. It is not derived from external
sources, but from the one true Source within.

You wrote: "Maybe I'm being
a little too Zenny with that last statement
but, really, honestly, what do you mean by
"analytical mind"? Have you observed
such a thing for yourself?...What an impossible
task, to leave the analytical mind and to leave
the ego."

I was surprised you asked that.
What did you think meditation was for if not
to still the mind, the analytical mind? What
I was trying to convey here is that it is our
analytical mind, our mind, the noise-making
activity, which prevents us from experiencing
the Being,the Now, the Unmanifested, the supreme
Oneness of Being, in other words, God.

The purpose of meditation is
to create a gap into the incessant stream of
thought - a cessation of thinking. This is
achieved by focusing on the breath or looking,
in a state of intent alertness, at a flower,
so that finally thoughts cease, there is no
mental commentary, just the presence of Being.
It is here that one experiences the consciousness
of God, of Being.

This is what meditation is all
about. The cessation of thinking, the cessation
of using the analytical mind. It is only by
surrendering the analytical mind, stilling
the mind, stilling the thoughts, that one enters
the "gap" of the Unconscious Being.

Thought is part of the realm
of the manifested. Continuous mind activity
keeps you imprisoned in the world of form and
prevents you from becoming conscious of the
formless and timeless God-essence in yourself
and in all things and all creatures.

You are cut of from Being as
long as your mind takes up all your attention.
Your mind is your ego thoughts. Your ego creates
attachments to things and people. The mind
absorbs all your consciousness and transforms
it into mind stuff. You cannot stop thinking.

The Unmanifested is present in
this world as silence. Hence this is why it
has been said that nothing in this world is
so like God as silence. All you have to do
is pay attention to it - the silence. Every
sound is born out of silence, dies back into
silence and is surrounded by silence.

During a conversation, become
conscious of the gaps between words, the silent
intervals between sentences. As you do that
the dimension of stillness grows within you.
You cannot pay attention to silence if you
are not still within, if you have not cease
the "chatter" in your mind, ceased
the analytical mind from thinking, you cannot
enter the Unmanifested.

The present moment holds the
key to liberation and you cannot find the present
moment as long as you are your mind. Thinking
and consciousness are not synonymous. Thinking
is a small aspect of consciousness. Thought
cannot exist without consciousness, but consciousness
does not need thought.

Being is the eternal, ever-present
One Life beyond the myriad forms of life that
is subject to birth and death. Being is not
only beyond but is also inherent within every
form of life as its innermost invisible and
indestructible essence. Meaning that it is
accessible to you now as your own deepest self,
your true nature.

But one cannot seek it by grasping
for it mentally with your mind. Don't try to
understand it. When you are present, when you
are fully present and intensly in the Now,
Being can be felt, but it cannot ever be understood
mentally. To regain awareness of Being and
to remain in that state of "feeling-realization"
is enlightenment.

Hence I disagree with you when
you say that Presence is not something to be
praticed. It takes pratice to train the mind
from focusing on the outer events of Time and
turn it inwards and and focus it on the Now,
the moment of timelessness. It takes pratice
to train the mind to end its ceasless "chatter",
to still the mind. As in the case of the monkey
tied to the stake.

When I mentioned the "I"
I meant it to be the Being, the Unmanifested,
the Silence, the God within all living things
and without. But all of us has the egoic self,
the little "I", the little "Self"
that is attached to the world of thought and
things and therefore trapped in the world of
Time.

But there are moments in Life
when man may have a glimpse of this bigger
"I" and it lasts only for a few seconds.
He captures this moment when he momentarily
gazes upon a scene of tranquil beauty as in
a sunset or looking out on the vastness of
the ocean, and it is in a moment of a few seconds
his mind stops thinking - the "chatter"
of his mind has stopped. At this precise moment
he is conscious of the stillnes, he is in the
"gap" of no-thought. Here he experiences
the stillness and peace, and senses the love
and beauty of the Unmanfested Self. After a
few seconds the mind resumes to think and creates
the noise and the fleeting moment is forgotten.
The trick here is to prolong that moment.

You wrote: "...but, really,
honestly, what do you mean by "analytical
mind"? Have you observed such a thing
for yourself? I would say that if you have,
you will have seen that it is not a problem.
It is not something to get rid of or put aside.
The same with "ego". Everyone talks
about this, especially in spiritual circles,
but what do you really mean by it?"

That is what meditation is all
about. Stilling the mind. You need to put aside
the analytical mind to still it in order to
transcend into that which is beyond thought.
By stilling the mind, by the cessation of all
thoughts, you become conscious without actually
thinking, your thoughts cease to think. You
are conscious of the Present moment as infinity,
there is no time. As long as you are in a state
of intense presence, you are free of thought.
There is no ego. The moment your conscious
attention sinks below a certain level, thought
rushes in. The mental noise returns; the stillness
is lost. You are back in time. Back to your
thoughts and your ego.

You wrote, "Presence is
not something to be practiced. It's not a technique
for accomplishing any mental skills. It is
just a moment of how life really is. We all
do have these moments, fleetingly, but our
priorities are usually somewhere else."

I don't understand what you mean
by presence is not to be practised. If that
is the case, why offer me to go to a week long
retreat where the emphasis is simple presence?
Is that not to pratcise it?

Why do people go on meditation
courses? Why do people read books on spirituality
and go to retreats and so on? They do this
because they want to change for something better.
To do this they need to change a habit of their
egoic thinking to a new way of thinking. And
this does take practice, to change a habit.
If there was no practice involved we would
all continue with the same old mind patterns
that keep us trapped in Time and Suffering.

To achieve Presence you have
to practise a new pattern of awareness which
is to observe the silence behind thoughts and
speech. You have to learn to free yourself
from your mind, the "chatter box",
and connect yourself with the stillness within,
that is free from Time and your egoic thoughts.
You take the first step by listening to the
voice in your head as often as you can. By
this you are "watching the thinker",
listen to the voice in your head, be there
as the witnessing presence. When you listen
to that voice, listen to it impartially. Do
not judge. do not judge or condemn what you
hear, for doing so would mean that the same
voice has come in again through the back door.
You'll soon realize: there is the voice, and
here I am listening to it, watching it. This
"I am" realization, this sense of
your own presence, is not a thought, It arises
from beyond the mind.

By doing this when you listen
to a thought, you are aware not only of the
thought but also of yourself as the witness
of the thought. A new dimension of consciousness
has come in. As you listen to the thought,
you feel a conscious presence - your deeper
self - behind or underneath the thought. The
thought loses its power over you and it quickly
subsides, because you are no longer energizing
the mind through identification with it.

When a thought subsides, you
experience a discontinuity in the mental stream
- gap of no-mind. Gradually this gap becomes
longer. When these gaps occur, you feel a certain
stillness and peace inside you. This is the
beginning of the natural state of felt oneness
with Being, which is usually obscured by the
mind.

With practice, the sense of stillnes
and peace will deepen and there will be a subtle
emanation of joy arising from deep within.
Hence there is practice involved here.

Once again Jay thanks for taking
time out to read all of this. This is all beginning
to remind me of my university days again -
concentrating too much on philosophical discussions
and not getting the work done.

All the best,
D

Jay: It's good
to hear back from you. I wish we could meet
in person to look at these issues. That is
a much better way to hear each other. A phone
call would be an option. Not quite as direct
as in person but better than this writing back
and forth.

I appreciate what you are saying
and the words that you use sound accurate.
You have been able to explain very eloquently
the whole process that you see as spiritual
work, including how to begin it and what its
fulfillment is. But you are still disturbed
and unsatisfied, according to what you say.

If I understand you, you do experience
what you are calling the setting aside of the
analytical mind but you are not satisfied with
it. You want more of it. You want it to last
longer. You want to get to a point where it
will last indefinitely. And since you have
done what you think you were supposed to be
doing to make this happen for a number of years
and you are still not satisfied, you want something
else you can do. And because that is not forthcoming
- you're not sure you can find anyone who really
"knows" any better than you do -
you are maybe a bit distraught wondering if
you will ever get what you are longing for.

At the same time you are willing
to defend vigorously your view of what spiritual
work is, no?

I questioned your view with certain
statements that to me have accuracy. Life itself
is also questioning your view because despite
your years of effort, you haven't achieved
the progress you hoped for. Maybe your view
needs to be examined and questioned more carefully.
It is founded on lots of assumptions.

If I do understand what you are
describing, you have experienced a stillness
that is not the same as the usual racket of
the thinking brain. I don't think it is yet
clear to you what the nature of this stillness
is and what it's relationship is to thinking.
If it were clear, you wouldn't be troubled
as you are. It would be good to examine this
further very carefully - not by thinking about
it but by having more opportunity to be in
silence. This is the purpose of retreat.

I really can't pretend to know
your state of mind, but since we are talking
with each other about these intimate things,
I would say that what you describe reminds
me of what in Zen is warned against as "dead
void sitting", a deep desire to stay in
a certain kind of emptiness. I believe the
Zen masters talked about it so much because
it must have been a very common place for monks
to end up and to get strongly stuck in.

This false emptiness is not One
Mind. It is an emptiness that stands in contrast
to a different state ("thinking"?).
It is an emptiness that requires effort to
maintain. In moments of that emptiness there
may be no dissatisfaction but afterwards there
is deep dissatisfaction with not being in that
state and the mind projects a future possibility
of being in that state all the time and calls
it enlightenment. It is a state that depends
on doing certain things - focusing on things
or holding certain postures to maintain it.
It is a neutral state that watches the world
go by without being in it. I don't know if
this describes your own experience but it does
match a lot of what you say.

You may say "but I know
the peace and stillness is real" and I
do agree with you. It is vastly different from
how we mostly live. But it is not an end resting
place and it is not yet the awakening of being.
It is still the doer but just momentarily in
abeyance - resting. In fact there may be tremendous
defensiveness in this state - don't interrupt
my quietness, don't question it. It's my lifeline,
my only security. It's what makes me different
- nobler, silenter - than normal people.

I would say there is no need
to waste lifetimes trying to prove that if
one can just practice holding this empty space
enough, it will become permanent. You can try
to prove it but from my experience it is thoroughly
clear that it can never become permanent and
it is not desirable for it to be permanent,
no more than sleep should be permanent or sex
should be permanent. This state has its place
and time and then gives way to other states.
To try to make this permanent could make one,
I believe, deeply sick.

I wonder if you are able to hear
your own deep concerns. You've expressed them
clearly. A desire for more peace, more security,
more respite from the ravages of the body/mind,
along with a plan and hope for accomplishing
this through effort, a joy when one is in a
certain state and an dissatisfaction when one
is not, along with a frustration and anxiety
that it's not happening even as years go by,
or perhaps at times a reassurance that there
is some progress. Isn't it clear that all of
this clouds how one see the world around one,
the people around one? Isn't it also clear
that the whole burden of this effort will die
along with one's physical death? It can also
die even when one is still alive, maybe for
just an instant, and then the whole wide world
is suddenly radiantly visible in 360 degrees.

Again, I don't know what things
are like for you but what you have described
brings up a part of myself that I would want
to make suggestions to. I would tell that part
of myself to give up trying to make something
happen. It's exhausting and such effort is
based on false assumptions. And in giving up
what I've thought my spiritual life depended
on all these years if I find myself distraught
because I have no idea of what to do anymore,
to not avoid that. To not try to fix it. On
the doorstep of death how can we have any idea
of what to do? It doesn't apply and it's not
necessary. On the doorstep of death none of
our plans for security, happiness, safety,
apply. They all end. Why hang on to them now?

You asked why people go to retreat
and you answered the question saying that it
is in order to change something for the better?
Is this the only way to live, to try to change
things for the better? Isn't there a simpler
presence?

I better stop here. Do feel free
to respond.

Unexpectedly
stepping out of my ordinary life

D: Recently I took a trip to
the appalachian trail with some friends of
mine for a quiet hike in the woods. Nearing
the end of our trip we were staying at a shelter
when my friends decided they wanted to go explore
our surrounding area, leaving me alone at the
shelter.

Shortly after they left, it began
to rain and a middle aged women of asian descent
came into the shelter to get out of the rain.
I began speaking with her and very soon we
began discussing about spiritual evolution
and transcending physical limits. It wasn't
long until I had nothing left to say and she
was still going on and on.

This next part I do not remember
very well because I must have been put into
some kind of trance. Again I can't entirely
remember what she said but it was something
like this. "Then, you will meet someone
in a room that you did not expect to meet and
they will ask you things your not used to being
asked and it will scare you." She then
began to ask me very personal questions over
and over again without time for me to respond,
like "They will ask you about the places
you have been. They will ask you about the
people you have met and the things you have
done. They will ask you about how you live
your life and what that means to you....etc
etc etc"

The whole experience was very
sublime and I have not been able to pinpoint
what exactly happened to me there that day.
Please shed some light on this for me because
I am still in the dark over the whole matter,
and it really changed me.

Jay: I don't know, of course,
what exactly "happened". However,
here is the picture that comes to me from what
you described:

You were alone in a place far
away from your usual life, surrounded by the
beauty and power of nature. Where was your
life, your usual self, the whole story of Derek?
It wasn't there. Instead just the pouring of
rain, the smells of the living earth, the wind
in the dark and ancient trees and behind and
through it all, stillness, a silence that existed
long before humanity and is here when humanity
is long gone.

And then a human being you had
never seen before appears out of nowhere and
talks to you directly and intimately, as if
she could reach right into you.

Maybe we can say that what happened
was that you had a brief glimpse of what life
really is when our minds are not wrapped up,
covered, hidden, enclosed in their usual story
of myself, including the collective human story
- our culture and society - of what we think
is important to do, to change, to be, to learn,
to accomplish, to secure - all of which hides
the indescribable, intimate beauty and compassion
of life itself.

In a moment like this we somehow
realize what we've been missing all these years.
And you might be wondering "How do I plug
back into this unknowable, unpinpointable something
that was so different from my usual self?"

It's good to keep this as absolutely
simple as possible. At the time it wasn't a
matter of theories or practices or efforts
or explanations or paths or trying to develop
some abilities. It was a simple moment. It
was simple because all of your trying and doing
and ideas about yourself and the world had
receded into the background and what was alive
and real at that moment was what you were.

We can refer to this as simple
presence. How does one come to enter into this
more? I can only share my experience with you.
There is something very direct and simple about
taking time regularly to stop moving around
and sit down in a way that supports the body
comfortably and can be held for a while. Along
with this sitting still is not trying to engage
in any particular mental activity. I can say
this in another way as sitting down with the
interest to be in touch with what is really
going on inside and outside - feeling what
is going on, the breeze, the feel of the body,
the sound of a fan, along with maybe a sense
of impatience or thoughts about what I need
to do. All of this can just be revealed without
needing to do anything about it.

If you persist with taking regular
time for this, I'll think you'll find, as I
have, that it becomes a bit easier and that
it also you begin to see things about yourself,
your habits, that you never noticed before.

What about the deep feeling you
experienced in the woods? What if it doesn't
come back, you might ask? What if I'm sitting
here observing all these things but I still
feel stuck in myself? Am I doing something
wrong?

I think anyone who does this
quiet inquiry, this meditative inquiry, of
sitting still and noticing what is really here
- probably everyone who does this begins to
notice how stuck we are so much of the time.
It may even seem like all of the time. After
35 years of this listening, I would say that
we are stuck because we have never noticed
carefully and patiently what this stuckness
is. All that is needed is to see our stuckness
moment by moment. The seeing that sees this
is the same seeing that sees/feels the rain
pouring down in torrents in the dark forest.
At certain moments the whole mind of stuckness
just opens up, becomes transparent, and the
pouring rain and blowing trees are revealed
simply as what we are. Then the stuckness takes
over again.

With years of staying with this
moment to moment presence, the stuckness becomes
less sticky and is much more likely to give
up - to open up - on its own. It's good to
notice very carefully that we can't make it
happen. The "me" that wants to make
it happen is the stuckness itself. When the
world opens wide for us, that "me"
has given up the ghost, for that moment.

It is also good to notice that
the seeing, the presence, that let's the forest
and rain be revealed, is the same presence
that is here right now when stuckness is noticed
- or reaction, or fear.

In addition to daily quiet time,
I have found it really indispensable to attend
long, seven day meditative retreats at a center
that takes a very simple approach. In the past
I have gone to as many as 5 or 6 a year. I
still go to usually three a year. Setting aside
a week to sit quietly with others in this way
gives the world a real chance to shine through
us and for us to come back in touch with this
mysterious and yet simple world of direct aliveness.

Many meditation centers don't
keep it this simple and may add on lots of
interpretation, techniques, paths, theories,
requirements. But for someone who has breathed
for even a moment the simplicity of being,
it is clear that these things are not necessary
and just get in the way. The only place I know
of that holds retreats in this very simple
way is the Springwater Center, in Springwater,
NY. There may be others but I haven't found
them. They have retreats all year long and
there are many people that go there that have
been doing this work for many years.

I also hold a small seven day
retreat at my place in New Mexico in December.

I hope this addresses what has
happened for you. Please do feel free to write
back if I have not understood what you are
saying or if you have questions about what
I've written.

Experiencing
energy sensations

Question: Hi,
Jay.

Just want ask you a few things.One,
I'm not sure but maybe it's one of my chakras.
I have been getting this burst of energy that
feels like excitement to me. It comes from
above my belly button. It's the very same feeling
you get when you're going away and your excited.
It just comes out of nowhere and I wanted to
know why, the reason for it. Spirit maybe or
something.

There was a time when during
the day, I went to lie down on my bed. Just
lying there relaxing, showing no signs of falling
asleep. After not even 10 minutes lying there,
down at my feet, the end of the bed - not the
whole bed - vibrated with a strange feeling
like a shock and my eyes sprang open. I thought
that was very strange for that to happen, especially
since it was mostly only down at where my feet
were. It happend again but this time it was
like mini earthquake. My clock, built into
the wall dressing table, and the window shook
and I woke up to this. There was no mention
of an earthquake on the news and no one else
in the house was aware of it. What do you make
of this crazyness?

Jay: Hi. People
often ask about these kinds of unusual experiences
and I'm wondering what is it about them that
catches one's attention. Maybe it is because
they are different from what we are used to.
Isn't it true that most of the time we live
in a set of sensations that we are familiar
with, a rather dependable set of sensations,
a sort of state of body - like a state of mind
- that makes up our ordinary life. Maybe we
can say it is a default state of body that
can just run on automatic. It doesn't require
much conscious attention because it is a strong
habit.

This state of body probably takes
over just after we wake up in the morning and
runs automatically all day. It determines not
only our physical state but also our emotions
and quality of our thoughts, because in fact
all of these are tied together.

Once in a while this state stops
while we are awake and we experience something
that is fresh, new, alive. We experience something
in a state of freedom and openness. Then afterwards
when the automatic body takes over, we wonder
how to get back to that. But it is the automatic
state of body/mind that holds on to being old,
habitual, routine, narrow and safe. And it
just keeps holding on, even as it dreams about
how to get to something more free. In fact
the dreaming is part of the holding on - holding
on to self-enclosed, habitual thinking.

To begin to observe what is going
on all day long, how this habitual body mind
works, the fact that it is trying to hold on,
this observing is already something fresh.
Watching, feeling, listening to how the whole
body/mind thinks it needs to function - like
an experiment with something fascinating but
slightly disturbing or like a visit to a new,
strange, unknown place. This is the operation
of newness, freshness, each moment.

The more this is observed with
awareness, the more the body/mind may come
to quiet down in its attempt to control everything
and the light of newness may shine more often.
Or it may shine all the time, every moment.
Why not? When it is clear how dead and exhausting
the habitual body/mind pattern is, why not
let it be seen and exposed every moment in
fresh seeing?

It does not need to be gotten
rid of. The action of the body/mind is not
itself a problem. It's just like a child who
has never been loved and acts in crazy ways.
The child is not the problem. It's the lack
of love that it has gotten that is the problem.
So there can be a seeing and feeling of the
body/mind exactly as it is each moment without
wanting it to be different. Inevitably as it
is seen, there will be change that happens
on its own, maybe not immediately or every
instant. But because the problem is that it
has never been really seen in the light, when
it is seen in the light, the problem changes
and becomes less of a problem.

When there is openness and interest
in the body/mind, this same openness also reveals
the whole wide world at the same time. This
world is rarely seen by us because the body/mind
mostly shuts it out. So when something new
is seen or felt or heard or intuited, it is
unusual for us.

It is not important what is seen.
What is important is only the open space of
seeing, itself. What is seen or felt or heard
comes and goes. The open space of seeing does
not come and go. It is always here and it is
everywhere. It doesn't seem this way when the
energy is completely caught in the body/mind
pattern. Then it seems like space is gone.
But the moment this space opens up, it is clear
that it is always here and that it is everywhere.

There is absolutely no need to
know what new feelings or experiences mean
or what to do with them. If they need to do
something, it will happen on its own. Needing
to know is the body/mind wanting to hold on.

I'm not saying there isn't a
need to know in our daily life. Of course we
need to know many things. But at fresh wonderful
moments when it is not necessary to know, can
the energy just stay with the freshness of
what is, in its fullness at this moment, no
past, no future, no human world, just this
simple moment of cool air and typing fingers?
In this moment the whole universe is complete
without beginning or end.

I don't know if I've addressed
your question, so please let me know if you
have more questions or if I missed something
you were saying.

Biofeedback
and Silence

QUESTION: Hello
I was wondering about Biofeedback machines.
Biofeedback is kind of the same thing as meditation,
right? And the point of meditation is the silence
your mind. So, can a biofeedback machine be
used to gain control over your mind like meditation
does?

JAY: Your question
raises some interesting issues. Let's first
consider your comment that the point of meditation
is to silence the mind.

Silencing the mind could mean
various things. Watching television or reading
can silence the mind in that they provide input
which requires the mind to stop doing its own
thing. There can be a certain sense of ease
when doing these things because the mind is
not causing the usual kind of trouble.

For example, if someone is preoccupied
with concerns about losing their job, as the
thoughts about this go around and around, there
is stress and anxiety that is produced in the
body. These physical reactions are tied into
the anxiety of the thoughts about not having
enough money, about being a failure, etc.

If one then watches a cops and
robbers show on TV, the mind is filled with
those thoughts instead and it can no longer
create the thoughts about losing the job. In
other words, we forget about the job situation
while watching an exciting show and as a result,
the painful reactions that the body was experiencing
stop momentarily. There may even be pleasant
feelings in the body as the bad guy is finally
caught, the lovers are reunited, the children
are happy again, etc.

If your goal is to escape from
physical and mental discomfort, then a good
movie probably works better then biofeedback.

The problem is that the moment
the distraction - whether it be movies, relationship
with someone, work, mental exercises - ends,
the original difficult situation returns in
the mind and then we suffer through it until
we can get to the next distraction.

You haven't said why you are
interested in silence of the mind. Maybe you
can consider this and write back with more
specific detail. If by silence you mean just
the quieting down of inner noise so that there
can be a listening, an in-touchness with the
world around you and inside you, then this
is a simple thing. It is not a matter of training
the mind into some kind of silence habit. It
is just a matter of listening, regardless of
what is heard. That means that if you sit down
to be quiet and what is heard is internal noise,
so be it. You can also notice that that is
not the only thing that is heard, even though
it may seem so loud as to dominate the listening.
There is also the feel of the body, the movement
of the breath, the hum of the fan, the feel
of air on the skin. It doesn't matter if there
is chatter in the mind. The important thing
is just the interest in listening right now
- to be in touch with the world of this moment,
which is the only world there is.

What is behind the interest in
gaining control over the mind that you mentioned?
What if it proved impossible to gain control
over the mind? What do you even mean by mind?
I would not say the point of meditation is
to silence the mind. The point is to be awake
in this moment, which is radically different
from trying to train oneself for a future achievement.
All of the unnecessary suffering and difficulties
that we cause for ourselves have their root
in THIS moment. This is the only time that
they can occur. But we don't see this moment.
We are almost always thinking about the past
or the future or even thinking about what we
think the present is. All of this thinking
blocks any real perception of the present moment,
so that we never see what we are really doing
right now or even what right now is, the fullness
of it, the beauty of it, the intelligence of
it, the unseparatedness of it.

The amazing thing is that when
we begin to learn how to be in this present
moment, there is light that is shed on that
which wants to keep the thinking going. We
begin to see and understand the thought patterns
that have driven us most of our life. By letting
go of the thinking, thinking is actually seen
and understood more clearly and compassionately.
The problem of thinking begins to be solved
effortlessly. The mind becomes more quiet naturally
because it has been thoroughly observed what
non-quiet is. As a result we can also see and
understand other people compassionately for
the first time, because that which we react
too so strongly in others is the same kind
of thinking that we are not able to see in
ourselves.

When thinking can be seen, heard,
felt, touched vulnerably - no need to get rid
of it or do something about it - there is nothing
in the world that can be a problem. That's
not to say that there aren't things that need
to be responded to creatively, with energy.
Simply that there is nothing in the mind that
needs to be controlled. The only tool needed
to live healthily, intelligently, compassionately,
is the tool of being in touch with this moment,
which includes the vast world and includes
the sounds and images of thoughts chattering
in the mind - or sometimes, silence.

QUESTION: I
kinda see what your saying but all I asked
was could the biofeedback by used to gain control
over the subconcious. The reason why I asked
was trying to find a link between Yoga and
the biofeedback

Jay: Thanks
for the clarification. I'm not sure, still,
what you're looking for exactly. Why are you
trying to find a link between Yoga and biofeedback?
Is it a theoretical study or interest? Or are
you trying to find out what will work for you
personally?

There are a lot of assumptions
behind wanting to "gain control of the
subconscious." It would be most fruitful
for us to identify and examine those assumptions
together to see if they are valid at all. Usually,
on closer inspection, they prove not to be
valid but unless they are examined, one can
spend large amounts of time and energy acting
on mistaken assumptions.

Biofeedback conditions the brain,
just as getting rewards for an action does.
I don't doubt that it can do that effectively.
If you know how you want to condition yourself
and you are absolutely confident that it will
be helpful instead of adding to the problem,
then biofeedback might help you ingrain some
new conditioning.

Meditative presence is the opposite
of conditioning. It exposes conditioning for
what it is and sheds light on the assumptions
behind how conditioning continues to condition
itself blindly and erroneously.

You may not agree with what I'm
saying, so we can discuss it together to come
to the truth. Maybe it will help me if you
say a little more about your purpose in linking
yoga and biofeedback. Thanks.

QUESTION: Mmm.
It is more along the lines of interest. But
I was reading that biofeedback was inspired
by yogis and how they were able to control
parts of there body. That's why i thought there
was connection between biofeedback and yoga.

Jay: Ok. I think
it is pretty clear that it is possible to use
natural feedback to gain conscious control
over certain bodily functions and that the
yogis have been real good at it, even gaining
control over things that we ordinarily don't
think respond to conscious control.

It seems like the process involves
tuning in more carefully to subtle internal
sensations, so you start to associate moving
your tongue in a certain way with your ears
starting to move, for example.

A biofeedback machine makes the
feedback "louder". It doesn't take
as much subtlety. Maybe this is good. Maybe
there are advantages in tuning in more subtly.
I don't know.

There are kinds of meditation
practice that do the same thing and a biofeedback
machine may facilitate it.

You had originally talked about
stillness of mind. This is not something that
can be conditioned. It is possible to condition
certain states of suspended thinking but this
is not the same as being awake and transparent
to the inner movements and to the outer world.

It may seem that training the
mind to be in this suspended thinking state
is useful and it may have a very limited use
but because we typically mistake mental suspension
with meditative insight, I wanted to address
the difference. Suspended thinking may provide
a brief respite from our exhaustion but it
is only wakeful presence moment to moment that
can shed light on the causes of and end to
that exhaustion and suffering. In wakeful presence
the thinking mind is not asleep. It is listening!

Are we getting closer to understanding
each other?

Constant
Fear

Question: I have recently begun
mindfulness meditation, and it feels as if
it has unleased many mental ghosts in my psyche.
I am feeling a nagging anxiety most of the
time, and then encounter very intense moments
of extreme fear during the day. Fear I'll obsess
about a noise; fear I'll obsess about not hearing
every word that was spoken; fear that I'll
not be in control of my mind. I feel like I'm
up against a wall and I do not know how to
surrender to it. Please help!

Jay: Hi, L. You may need to find
out for yourself how to meet what is coming
up. That's not much help, is it!

You mentioned the idea of "surrendering"
to it, but that may not be what's called for.
"Surrendering" isn't necessarily
the all purpose response, though certainly
fighting against feelings isn't helpful. Sometimes,
though, what is coming up is itself, by nature,
a kind of internal fighting. If that's what's
going on, it feels more like "I'm not
doing the fighting. It's happening on its own.
So I can't stop fighting because I'm not doing
it. So there is no surrendering."

So how to meet what is going
on??? What does your intuition say? How do
these feelings and reactions that are coming
up want to be met? Or do they want to be left
alone, left invisible? Do the fears speak to
you? Is there something they are trying to
say?

These are just possible responses.
They may not apply to your situation. They
are things that came up for me in considering
what you have said. The important thing is
the interest to be in touch and to let these
difficult things open up and reveal themselves,
if possible. Out of interest may come insights
for you on how to do this.

Interest includes patience and
compassion, as well as curiosity and vulnerability.
If you think there is a real danger that you
might offend someone, you might need to do
something - excuse yourself for a moment, or
something else - to momentarily put aside the
fear.

How do you find a space - in
the middle of roiling anxieties and anxieties
about anxieties - to be patiently interested?
I don't know how it happens. Experiment for
yourself and see if it is possible, even if
for just a second. You may find that in that
brief moment, the "problem" is no
longer a problem, that it is simply something
that is going on that can be seen, felt, heard,
sensed, along with the feel of air on the skin
and the sense of the breath moving and heart
beating. In that moment the reaction is put
into a new, fresh perspective, possibly for
the first time.

You may also notice the many
ways that the mind wants to get out of these
difficult states of fear the moment that there
is awareness that the state is going on. We
distract ourselves through entertainment, gossip,
praying for help, shutting down into helplessness,
closing down our perceptions through self-blame,
and so on and so on. Have you noticed what
ways you usually try to escape the fear feelings?
Or maybe they are so strong that there is no
possibility of escape. But don't assume that
there is no escape reaction happening. You
can experiment to see what is going on, what
you think about, and if you are doing something
that takes you out of touch with the fear instead
of in touch with it.

Another really good exploration
is to realize that what we label a situation,
eg., "I'm having a fear reaction"
is, on close inspection, not really the reality
of it. It may have some provisional accuracy
at first but if you don't buy too much into
the idea that "this is a fear reaction"
but instead stick with what's going on over
time, you will get a much more realistic sense
of what is going, albeit a much less defined,
meaning "limited" sense. So can you
for the moment drop the word and concept fear
and find out what it is that really is going
on. It's sort of like someone telling you that
a pond is "cold". The word is so
completely inadequate to describe what happens
when you dive into it.

Maybe this is enough for now.
Feel free to write back if something I said
was not too clear or with further explorations
of coming in touch with what is going on.

Why
Talk Together?

What is the purpose of coming
together in quietness and then talking –
verbally inquiring together? This is not easy
to discover right away. There are perhaps three
major types of negative reaction to the talking.
First, the questions or comments that other
people make may seem superficial or at least
uninteresting. (In case you are worried that
I might be bored with what you say, what people
bring up is rarely if ever uninteresting to
me, after years of doing this.) Secondly, someone
may simply not understand what another person
has said. The words may have sounded lofty
or esoteric, or like "teachings"
that one knows are supposed to be true, but
the listener feels they really didn't understand
what was said and the words may have even made
them feel stupid or inferior. Third, some people
feel that the meditative work – the serious
aspect of it – is simply not verbal,
that putting things into words is just talking
about something that really can't and shouldn't
be put into words.

Let's start with the third case.
It's true that it may not be easy to come into
touch with one's serious concerns verbally.
There may be a feeling, however, that the whole
point of meditative work is to enter into a
non-verbal space which stands in opposition
to thinking. This is not at all true or accurate
in my observation. Yes, there is a deep silence
that goes with simple presence but it is a
silence that can clearly reveal the working
of the thinking mind. It allows thinking to
be seen – and felt – for what it
is.

The arising of a thought does
not need to destroy or cloud presence. On the
contrary, the only way there can be an intelligent
and compassionate moving through daily life
is if the contents of thinking can be detected
in presence. This happens in what we might
call a transparency of the thinking –
and verbalizing – mind. This is a mind
that is still and yet awake.

In verbal inquire together one
can feel the pull of the mind to want to stay
asleep. There may be a felt resistance. "Why
is he/she bothering me with that topic."
There may be a superficial reaction, like giving
advice or sharing what I did in that situation.
This is the situation in which a person may
feel that the discussion itself is superficial
or uninteresting or trite, but this is because
the listener's mind has not woken up to really
hear what is being brought up by someone else.

One of the great benefits of
verbal inquiry is that it does offer the opportunity
for a sleepy, heavy mind to wake up. One way
to do this is to ask the person who has brought
up something (the "speaker") to say
a little more about it so that you can try
to get into it. Or we can ask the speaker,
"Do you mean such and such …"
to see if our interpretation is accurate. Or
we can take a moment to see if there is something
about what they are saying that we can relate
to and have an interest in. Another good way
is to simply listen carefully to what the speaker
says and how others respond, in order to give
the mind a chance to open to it a bit more.
Sometimes the depth of someone's question doesn't
hit me until the next day, or later! In fact
I used to – quite a long time ago –
have a vague impression that the things people
brought up were things that I was not bothered
by, that they were that person's problem and
I felt bad that they hadn't resolved it. However,
invariably, later that day or the next, I would
suddenly notice that the exact same problem
or pattern was in me. Is there a defense mechanism
operating that says, "I don't have that
problem"?

I often wonder why, given all
of the deep concerns, anxieties, fears, hopes,
that dominate each of our lives and the life
of humanity as a whole, when it is time for
people to bring up concerns in the group inquiry,
that it often takes a while for someone to
have anything to say and many people don't
find anything to say for the whole session.
Maybe there are too many possible things. Maybe
the mind is too asleep to put a concern into
words. At least when someone does bring something
up, it makes it easier for everyone else to
begin to listen inside – through the
medium of words – to find where the concerns
are in themselves.

Once the flame of wakefulness
does take hold, it is amazing how it does begin
to shed light – not in terms of solving
a problem, but rather in a mysterious and yet
simple, natural way. It brings things into
the light of day in a new, fresh way. If a
person can begin slowly to find their way with
waking up through verbal dialogue, that light
can't help but start to seek out the dark places,
touched by words that come from the transparency
of awakeness.

We've covered the third and first
difficulties with participating in verbal inquiry.
The second difficulty is when someone, with
perhaps an authoritative sound in their voice,
says something that sounds like it is "spiritual"
or "the right attitude", etc., but
which one doesn't understand. What if someone
says, for example, "There is no separation."
Some people in hearing this kind of thing may
feel stupid or inadequate because they don't
understand or see it that way. Or they may
feel the speaker is being pretentious. Or they
may put the speaker on a pedestal and then
think that they would like to be on that pedestal
some day, or at least be a friend of the person
on the pedestal, maybe be their favorite.

Don't all of these reactions
come from hearing something that the mind does
not relate to, that is not in one's realm of
remembered experience? Is it possible at all
just to hear a statement and stay with being
non-plussed by it, to not go with the immediate
reaction? To not need to understand, to not
need to be one who understands wisdom. To not
need to learn to think the right way or think
the right thoughts or learn the right attitude.
Just to be dumb-founded in the moment by a
statement that is utterly un-understandable.
This is freedom from needing to be or to become
something.

When someone makes such a "spiritual"
statement, we really don't know where they
are coming from. Maybe it is true for them
at this moment. Or maybe they are confused
or are speaking from theory and not from personal
perception in the moment. It doesn't really
matter where they are. What is helpful is to
let the words sink in without reaction and
see if they bring up something here, in me.
Maybe they bring up confusion. Maybe they bring
up a question. Maybe they tug at a memory.
Maybe they begin to wake up something long
dormant.

This is the power of words when
they come from deep silence, which is deep
listening. In this there is the power to wake
the mind up. In the mind waking up there is
the power to begin to shed light on the darkness,
fear, anxiety, that permeates every cell of
the body/mind most of the time, though usually
unseen and unfelt. When light begins to be
shed on the darkness of the mind, there is
in-touchness with the wide universe, which
is itself awakeness.

So when we come together to sit
and listen and talk, we can see if we can learn
to do this together. If something isn't clear,
we can learn to break it down and make it more
concrete. If something seems superficial, we
can begin to wonder where our depth is. If
we find ourselves in a silence that doesn't
want to be disturbed by words, we can just
listen silently, encompassing the whole world
in our silent listening – hearing the
whole human drama with compassion and love.

Food
Addiction

T: I am new to meditation and
find it very helpful. Can you recommend a meditation
that I can do in the morning and night that
can help me with my food addiction so that
I have more control over my actions during
the day. Thanks

Jay: When you say "meditation",
I assume you are talking about sitting down
quietly for a while. The physical quietness
helps the mind also quiet down and when the
mind is quieter, there is more awareness. By
awareness, I mean that things that are going
on inside the body/mind and outside are seen
and felt more clearly and directly. By "inside
the body/mind" I mean physical sensations
and the movement of emotions and thoughts.

Usually in our daily life these
sensations, emotions and thoughts are not seen
or felt or heard. They just run wild, unnoticed.
Does that make sense? There are definitely
thoughts and emotions going on all day but
they are not seen. The seeing of them is a
different quality. It is an intelligence, a
spaciousness, a patience. So in sitting quietly
this intelligence and patience is available
and thoughts and emotions can be seen. In our
usually daily activities this space of intelligent
seeing is usually not there. It is like thinking
and emotions have curled themselves up into
a ball and don't want to be seen. Then they
just cause trouble in their own blindness to
themselves.

Addictive habits are one aspect
of this blind, compulsive way of thinking and
emoting. They just come up again and again,
each time reinforcing themselves, in blindness.
By that I mean they are not seen by this spacious
intelligent quality. So the first step in the
possibility of change in an addictive habit
is to quiet down and see it.

What does this mean to see a
habit? The first step maybe is to shift to
an attitude of interest in what is going on.
On the surface you can notice what triggers
the habit - certain thoughts, certain emotions,
certain memories, certain senses of emptiness.
You may have noticed some of this already but
it always goes deeper and deeper. You may notice
that sometimes if the interest is very strong
and the spaciousness of watching and feeling
and smelling and tasting in the mind, not in
the mouth, is very strong, you may forget to
actually follow up on the compulsion because
you are wide open to exploring what it consists
of.

Sometimes the blind compulsion
just takes over the body and eats. In that
moment there is no seeing, just reacting, just
acting out the old pattern. A moment later
seeing is back and then thought comes in and
blames. But the blame is not necessary. If
you can really feel and see how it is when
compulsion takes over blindly, there will be
compassion for how this happens in human beings.
Compassion and sadness and increased energy
of interest for being with the feelings that
go along with the addictive reaction when it
comes up.

When there is the energy of interest
and seeing and feeling, then at that moment
it is not an addiction. We can say an addiction
is an addictive reaction that takes control
of the body and acts itself out. When an addictive
reaction comes into consciousness and is seen,
then the seeing prevents it from taking over
the body. The seeing has taken over the body
instead. This is healing.

It doesn't mean that the addictive
reaction will not take over the body in the
future. We don't know whether it will or will
not and there is tremendous freedom in not
needing to know about the future. What is clear
is that in this moment, it is seeing that is
operating in the body, and with it intelligence
and light and in that light the very neurons
of the addictive pattern change somewhat and
open up to be touched by the light of seeing.
Internally you can feel this as insight, as
an understanding of what the addictive reaction
thinks it's doing and how it is only hurting
itself and how what it really wants is the
openness and freedom of seeing, which it has
right now.

The more the body is able to
be a conduit for open seeing, the easier it
becomes.

You may find that the more you
become intimate with the dynamics of this relationship
to eating, the sooner in the addictive cycle
there will be a waking up to it. Now there
may not be awareness of it until your face
is in the cake (I'm not making fun of this!
It's just a fact.) As you observe more, you
may start to notice when something is happening
in the mouth or the stomach that leads to the
activation of the addictive reaction. Or you
may notice a certain subtle emotion or feeling
about yourself that you have noticed is associated
with it. The more familiarity, the sooner you
recognize the activation of the addictive reaction.
And the sooner it is recognized, the sooner
the energy of seeing strengthens and the less
chance of the reaction taking the body and
the more opportunity for further healing of
the reaction and further insight.

It is possible that out of insight
the mind may come up with certain strategies
- such as keeping the most addictive foods
out of reach, etc., etc. There is tremendous
intelligence and creativity in seeing so you
may discover any number of strategies that
are helpful and these all come from this seeing
that allows the addictive reaction to be seen
and felt but does not allow it to take over
the body. (When it does take over the body,
you can discover that seeing stops at that
moment.) This kind of strategy is helpful and
natural. However, any strategy can become a
new reaction - reacting to the addictive reaction.
So be on the alert. Stick with seeing, seeing
and more seeing. If a response comes up, fine.
Then continue with seeing.

Eckhart
Tolle in Relation to Clarifying Meditative
Work

I thought it might be useful
if I can say something about the Clarifying
Meditative Work sessions and how they relate
to Eckhart Tolle's work.

So far I've read the Power of
Now and have started New Earth. Tolle talks
about the energy of Now, of Presence (which
we can give a capital P) as a radically different
energy from how we usually live. As he discusses
issues, he is trying to shed light on them
from the standpoint of this Presence and at
the same time pointing to what this energy
of unseparated openness is.

As one reads his books, some
of the comments just seem to click, like something
obvious that wasn't seen until someone points
it out. Other of his writings, though, may
sound contradictory or incomprehensible or
a violation of common sense. Maybe when people
read these things, they just assume they are
not smart enough or deep enough or with it
enough to understand. Or it may sound like
he is talking about mind states that seem like
they'd be great but that seem completely unattainable
by any normal person.

The purpose of the Clarifying
Meditative Work sessions is to come together
in Presence and shed light on the workings
of the ego mind for ourselves – to uncover
those patterns that are held very dear, that
do not want to be seen or disturbed or touched
and yet on inspection prove to be confining,
not helpful. The very act of talking and listening
honestly with a simple, undefensive interest
in the truth, is already the action of Presence
in this moment. And the becoming visible of
the defensive habits of ego thinking is already
a healing in this moment. So it's not beyond
any of us for this Presence energy to replace
ego energy in a given moment.

Tolle does talk somewhere about
this process of inquiring together - inquiring
being another word for Presence revealing the
workings of ego mind - and points out that
if everyone in the group is more or less operating
in the energy of superficial thought and habitual
ways of relating to each other, then inquiry
doesn't really happen. Probably everyone has
been in well meaning groups in which the discussion
usually is some combination of sharing experiences,
giving advice, encouraging others, letting
others know we empathize with them, venting,
asking for help, therapizing, expounding on
theoretical truths, describing techniques to
accomplish certain things, etc., etc. While
groups that do this can be exciting for a few
times, people seem to get quickly tired of
them because the energy of reinforcing one's
habits in this way does not last long and because,
if one is interested in real inquiry, these
discussions inevitably begin to feel shallow
and ego dominated. I'm not saying these things
are bad but rather that they are not the same
as real inquiry, the beauty of which is that
it is radically fresh and radically healing.

When the absolute freshness of
Presence is burning in someone in group inquiry,
then real inquiry can happen and it can catch
hold in others, whether it is just for a brief
moment or it is sustained. This flame of Presence
in even one person can help cut through the
misconceptions and assumptions that bubble
out of us in discussion, rather than just reinforce
them, which is what we usually do with each
other because we don't see them as misconceptions
or assumptions.

This is what makes Tolle's writings
so striking. They have this power of Nowness.
We can do this together as well.

A word about authority. In considering
this carefully I can say that authority comes
from simple, clear seeing, which does not have
an owner or a seer. It happens when there is
no seer taking credit for what is seen. Authority
isn't vested in any person. If there is clear,
agendaless seeing happening in someone, what
they say will cut through to the truth. If
the next moment that same person is caught
in reaction, what they say will reinforce confusion
and suffering. Likewise even a person who is
usually dominated by the most deluded, self-defensive
and dark personality, will speak beautiful,
healing truth if there is an instant in which
the dark mind turns inside out and is revealed
in Presence. It's a wonderful thing to come
together without needing to evaluate the state
of other people's minds and personalities -
whether they seem base or noble - and allow
each moment the possibility of the blooming
of Presence in a human being. This is the spirit
in which we come together.

Don't know if I have made sense
so please feel free to write or call.

Progress?

M: Hi, I have
been meditating for a couple of years now.
The technique I learned is to focus on my lower
belly and attempt to concentrate on the gentle
sensations of my breath as I inhale, retain
the breath, exhale and hold again in a ratio
of 1:1:1:1 (or something like it). When my
concentration moves from my breath I gently
focus again on the area just below my naval.
This is all I do during meditation. I was told
not to worry about doing it 'right' and that
sitting with eyes closed was benneficial in
itself, even without any intentional 'meditation'.

I used to think I was making
some sort of progress. I used to feel all kinds
of sensations during meditation and when I
finally emerged I would feel deeply relaxed
and almost as though I had smoked cannibis.
I'm not sure if this was a good sign but it
felt glorious and was a good incentive to continue.

These days I feel a bit like
I have lost contact with what I had then. I
seem to loose concentation and get caught up
in thoughts more than I used to and that 'stoned'
feeling has almost gone. I'm not sure whether
I should interpret this as progress (having
realised a restless mind that was there all
along) or as a step back (having lost the concentration
I had previously).Any advice would be greatly
appreciated.

Jay: Hi. I would
question the overall value of concentration.
While of course concentration is helpful in
many of our daily activities and in certain
kinds of excercising of the body and mind,
focusing attention on a particular sensation
(or mental image, as is done in some kinds
of meditation) seems to me to result in excluding
other kinds of sensation and awareness, including
sensitivity to the states of mind.

What is of value to me is a meditative
awareness that allows whatever exists at this
moment - inside and outside - to simply be
revealed. It is a simple presence that is not
goal oriented, not associated with any particular
part of the body or nervous system. It is a
presence that doesn't know what to do but directly
reveals what is.

I wonder what progress means
to you. In a very direct way this simple presence
is - moment to moment - all that there is.
It is the beginning and the end of meditative
work, the beginning and the end of the whole
universe. If it is possible for the concepts
of time and progress to let go in this moment,
this ultimate completeness of each moment is
seen directly. In a way the simple seeing of
the restless mind, along with the feel of cool
air on the skin, the movement of the body as
the breath rises and falls, the sound of the
fan, this simple revelation of the restless
mind is enough - nothing to do about it, nothing
to fix or progress toward.

Looking at things in another
way, we can say that there are deep concerns
about ourselves personally, about humanity
in general, about the world, that do not go
away just because we have sat quietly for a
while. These things motivate us to look more
deeply, more carefully, more sensitively. To
devote more time to quiet listening and to
carry our listening through in our daily life.
To observe how we relate to others, what drives
our own actions. To become first of all transparent
to ourselves, meaning seeing our internal workings
more and more honestly and sensitively. To
open more to questions and uncertainty and
to yearn less for answers and progress.

So where do you stand now? It
is unknowable, isn't it? It doesn't need knowing,
does it? Is it possible to just be with the
movement of one moment to the next, giving
your deepest concerns a chance to come into
the light of day, along with the hum of the
fan, the buzz of the fly on the windowsill?

I hope this addresses your question.
It's quite possible that I haven't exactly
understand what you were writing about or haven't
been very clear in what I've said, so please
feel free to write back and tell me more or
ask me to be more clear about certain things.
I will also be interested to hear what comes
up as you sit with everything in a fresh way.

M: Hi thanks
very much for the speedy reply. I have heard
other people say similar thing to you - that
concentration is not the best form of meditation
- but find it difficult to choose between all
the different methods out there. I would be
interested to know more of your style of meditation.
Clearly you do not concentrate on one thing
but do you not still concentrate, even if it
is more widely?

Jay: Hi. You
raise a good question. First of all, why not
experiment with it yourself? You can see if
it is possible to sit without any concentration
at all. What would that be? Then you can resume
what you are calling concentration and see
what changes. And if you find yourself concentrating,
you can see if it is possible for it to drop
in order to find out what changes then. Whatever
it is that you are calling concentration can
be clarified then by listening to it and by
seeing how it is if it drops away.

For myself sitting (or moving)
quietly, openly, is not a style of meditation.
It is not a style. It's simple presence that
reveals what is going on inside and outside
without trying to judge or change what is revealed.
This presence reveals judgement and the urge
to change things. Do you see why I say this
is not a style? Styles, methods, techniques
are mental attitudes and strategies for accomplishing
something. I'm talking about finding a space
of presence that is not part of that complex
of knowing, judging, wanting, manipulating
but that reveals the complex itself clearly,
along with the sound of typing, the movement
of air on the skin, the brightness of sun shining
on snow. There are not different varieties
of this presence to have to choose from. There
is just one simple presence, which can be discovered
and lived when something more complicated loosens
its grip. Presence - allowing what is here
to be revealed - is much simpler than styles
and strategies.

As for concentration, I can say
that there is a kind of gathering of energy
that happens in being with what is here. Maybe
this could be called a concentration - sort
of in the sense of a distillation - but because
the word concentration is so easily associated
with mental focusing techniques, it might be
better to call this gathering of energy something
like "interest". Interest implies
a "perking up", an alertness, which
requires energy. So if you are very interested
in this issue of concentration, you can experiment
with whether there can be an interest, an awakeness
that gathers with as little focusing as possible,
as little physical straining as possible. If
you detect focus and physical straining, you
can experiment with it to see if it is necessary
and to see if there is something behind it
that doesn't want to give itself up.

I don't know the answer. It's
possible that there is a tautness of body that
goes along with a simple presence. It is only
for each of us to experiment with this and
examine it carefully. If a mental focus or
physical concentration can drop away and there
is still presence, then it becomes clear that
presence does not depend on that.

Does this help clarify what we
are talking about a little?

Vision
Interpratation

Question: During a guided meditation
I was imagining a meadow and out of the blue
a person approached me. This person was my
wife. She had long hair (her hair is currently
short) she wore a white gown and had a extreme
sense of peace about her. She told me that
she loved me and no matter how hard I tried
to get her out and focus on the instructor
she was there until the end. At the end she
hugged and kissed me, told me she loved me
and as she walked away she said that we would
be together soon. It was like a dream but so
real. More importantly my wife and I have been
separated for a couple months now. She says
she doesn't know how she feels about me. What
does it mean?

Jay: Well, it's a good question.
Does it mean anything? This dreamlike information
is different from our usual rational information,
right? It seems to tap into something different
and there is a sense that maybe this is important
because of that.

We can say that the vision information
comes from the unconscious but when you consider
it consciously now it is part of your consciousness.
What is intriguing about this kind of information
is that it seems to come from the unknown,
the unknowable, from the vastness of the world
itself, the great majority of which is not
something we can know. It seems to be subtler
and yet somehow more real in a way than all
of the "knowing" that we try to use
to deal with our problems. It seems to come
directly from the horse's mouth, as it were.

So what to do with this consciously?
We don't know. We don't know what it means.
Is it possible, in wondering what to do in
a situation, what to do in terms of your separated
wife, to listen deeply into the not knowing,
to sit quietly, wordlessly, letting go of too
much conscious attempt to figure things out.
Letting go of trying to interpret past images
and coming back to what is right here. It may
be that in doing this, a new possibility will
present itself to the conscious mind, a possibility
coming out of this direct in-touchness with
this subtle and yet real world.

The contents of the vision may
have some accuracy, some emotional reality,
or may be completely the wishful thinking of
the brain. It's impossible to know in the abstract.
But we can also sit quietly and let the mind,
the body, the nervous system sort itself out
silently, which it can do if it is not interfered
with too much by thoughts that want to make
assumptions and control things. Out of this
may come an action of some kind - calling her
to talk, exploring and questioning your own
feelings and needs, etc. Whatever presents
itself out of listening without knowing.

This kind of listening is best
when there is no direction of it, no guided
meditation, no imaging. Imaging may come up
on its own, as a natural process. You may have
a good visual imagination and that may be a
way your brain communicates. You can look for
the place when the imaging is done with itself
and rather than keeping it running, let it
be done and come back to the silent, black
space of listening.

What
is Meaning in Life? Is There Meaning Without
Attachment and Without Fear?

In a recent talk Eric [Kolvig,
to the Alb. Vipassana group] gave a lovely
exposition on the expression of meaning in
people's lives. He talked about the beauty,
passion and vitality of being motivated by
a strong interest. He quoted from a concentration
camp survivor who wrote that those in the camp
who had a sense of purpose and direction survived
much better than those who lost all sense of
meaning. The author even described how he was
motivated by the thought of seeing his family
again, even though he didn't necessarily believe
that he would. It was just the importance of
having a goal or dream to hold onto.

As beautiful as this energy of
motivated purpose is, it became clear to me
in listening to Eric's talk that there is also
a very dark side to this. As he spoke about
the beauty of the pilgrims walking to Chimayo
for Easter, I wondered if these were the same
people who preach hatred against gay people,
who advocate for an end to freedom of religion
on the grounds that this should be a Christian
country, who turn a blind eye to the misdoings
of their religious leaders. This could all
be true for any religious group, including
probably Buddhists, that there is beauty and
meaning in the forms and hand in hand with
that is a subtle or not subtle conflict with
people who have different forms.

It struck me that "meaning"
as Eric described it, is usually, for most
of us, a system of symbols, thoughts, images.
It is a belief system. Is it at all possible
to have strong identification with a belief
system without it coming into conflict with
other belief systems? We can each examine this
very honestly with our own beliefs and meaning
systems. They may seem benign on the surface
but I have noticed that there can be a lot
of resistance that comes up for me in relation
to spiritual work when I hear other people
talk about it. And resistance is rather clearly
a defensiveness.

It also strikes me that the imagery,
thoughts, symbols and emotional responses are
so arbitrary. If I am deeply moved by the sight
of a group of Jewish elders swaying in their
prayers, it is an arbitrary association based
on arbitrary events having happened in the
past in conjunction with arbitrary feelings.
Why put too much importance on these arbitrary
symbols? If the sight of a golden, silent Buddha
statue inspires me, what is really going on?
Maybe I have gone from an uninspired state
- bored, drifting, uninspired, unmotivated
- to a state that gives me more energy because
of seeing the statue. But I wonder if it is
not more helpful to examine carefully what
I'm calling an uninspired state, to see what
it really is if I look carefully. To notice
that there is a subtle or stronger impatience
with it and desire to find something that will
"motivate" me, so that perhaps I
have never really entered into what is going
on then at all.

Is it not a strong human pattern
in times when we can't find inspiration or
meaning systems to keep us going that we immediately
start looking for something to revitalize us?
What about the possibility of simply sticking
with the meaning of this moment, whether it
is inspired or uninspired, energetic or listless,
without any judgment of it? That is tremendously
simpler. In this moment in which imagery and
symbols can be seen as arbitrary, as mental
flashes, conflict does not happen. One image
may arouse energy in my system and depress
energy in yours. There is space here for both
of those things to be true without conflict.
The interest is in the reality of this moment
- the sounds, the space, the unfathomable workings
of the nervous system, the transparency of
the mind in which intelligence and love can
take place. The energy does not go into attaching
to images because sticky imagery muddies this
simple presence. This is "meaningfulness"
itself. This is passion itself.

It seems that there is a great
fear in most of us of losing hope, losing motivation,
of not having a lofty and noble goal. It feels
like life is meaningless without these things
and there is maybe a fear of sinking into immobility
or depression or mediocrity. Because of the
fear, we don't test it out. We don't really
explore what happens and we conspire with each
other to reinforce our images and beliefs and
goals as though our lives depended on them.
In fact it may be the opposite. Our real life
may depend on seeing these imagery goals for
what they are and letting go with both hands.
The images must be first seen as images. What
do I believe about Buddhism, about the Buddha,
about practice and scriptures? Where is the
attachment to these noble images? Where is
the fear of an empty life without them? Where
is the reinforcing of these images among ourselves?
Can this be discovered? And what then if I
let go of the concern about falling into a
life without meaning and find out what each
moment is at it presents itself?

If I've said things that aren't
very clear, are too abstract or not simply
stated or seem wrong, let's look at this together
to clarify.

Letter
to a person conducting research on how Buddhists
deal with suffering

Dear E,

I received a forward of a message
you sent about the research you are doing on
how people deal with suffering. I have been
doing meditative work for over 35 years now,
originally at a Zen Center in Rochester, NY,
and then in a non-traditional, direct way with
Toni Packer at the Springwater (NY) Center
for Meditative Inquiry and Retreat. I've attended
many 7 day retreats, probably an average of
two a year for all of these years. I also facillitate
a small group here in Albuquerque that holds
monthly sittings and discussion and an annual
retreat (http://www.cuttsreviews.com/jcutts/meditation/).

I thought about filling out your
questionaire but, from a meditative standpoint,
I really don't have any tools or strategies
for "dealing with suffering". In
fact this absence of strategies for dealing
with things seems to be the essence of meditative
work. I wanted to take the opportunity you
are offering for exploring what I mean by this
in words. Maybe it will be of interest to you,
though I doubt it will be helpful for your
research project.

As you probably have read, the
issue of suffering is fundamental to Buddhism.
When asked what he was talking about, the Buddha
said something, I believe, about discovering
the root cause of suffering and the end of
suffering. He also said that life is pain.
I find it helpful to refer to two different
things, using the word pain to mean actual
physical pain and the word suffering to refer
to the agony that we human beings go through
as we struggle with the difficulties of life,
including the fear of losing people or things,
the push to gain pleasures and security, the
anxiety over old age and death, the agony of
being torn between wanting to get certain things
and needing to avoid other things, the fear
of people perceived as enemies and the endless
need to defend against them, and the exhaustion
of all of this struggle.

So what happens when one is "suffering"?
I personally just lost my father last month
so this might be a good example. While I loved
my father very much, I can't say that there
has been much suffering going on. The many
moments when I cry usually feel like very simple
expressions of sadness. There is very little
sense of someone in the middle of what is going
on, being the victim of it. My dad had some
brief episodes of suffering while he was in
the hospital. He became paranoid and felt that
the doctors were trying to prove that he was
crazy and that they were trying to take his
home away from and that he was going to defend
himself by suing them. (This paranoia was probably
due to brain chemistry problems. He was not
that way normally.) I would say he was suffering
because there was a lot of anxiety and agitation
around these thoughts, even to the point of
struggling to escape. At the center of the
thoughts was "me", "my home",
"my sanity", defending "myself"
and with the sense of "me" a strong
sense of "others", "not me",
"my enemy". The thoughts blindly
going over and over what's happening to me
and how to defend myself seems to be the core,
the root, of suffering.

Another example that everyone
can probably relate to is the thought pattern
"Why did (so and so) do that to me? How
could they be so cruel, insensitive, etc? How
can I get back at them or change them?"
These thoughts going around and around endlessly
result in suffering, bringing up the hurt,
imagined or real, again and again until one
is exhausted and then the thought "They
made me go through this suffering." And
then the thought "How can I stop myself
from thinking all of this."

When all of this is going on,
is it possible to let it be seen for what it
is, to leave a little space around it of simple
awareness? If this can happen, it can be noticed
that the thinking is automatic, programmed
reaction. This is how thinking has learned
to think and it is non-functional, pain producing.
To see this requires discovering a presence
that is not identified with anything, that
is spacious enough to reveal thinking for what
it is. If there is a strong enough energy of
presence and if one has observed oneself carefully,
this kind of painful thinking can be noticed
the instant it is about to take over and it
may then drop, not come into play. Instead
the energy of presence remains.

In simple presence the mind functions
in a radically different way. It does not fall
into blind, automatic repetitive and painful
actions because it sees them for what they
are. Instead it allows a fresh perception and
an intelligence and compassion to operate and
there may be a new response that is appropriate
to the situation. I once watched someone park
in front of our house in a way that half blocked
the driveway and I immediately began thinking
how hard this was going to make things for
us and how stupid that person must be and how
we could get even with her, etc., and then
suddenly the mind of reaction broke open completely
and I suddenly saw the hospital across the
street and the hurried walk of the woman leaving
the car and and understanding came that the
woman may have a friend in the hospital that
she was worried about and naturally didn't
notice how she had parked. There was no sense
of "me the victim" any more in this
observation, just compassion.

It is clear to me that in this
experience there was no strategy applied, no
Buddhist principle practiced, no ideal of how
to "cope". There was a moment of
self-oriented, paranoid thinking, and then
there was not. Instead there was fresh, intelligent,
compassionate seeing without anyone in the
center of it. In the self-centered thinking,
there was "me". My needs, my irritation,
my territory. If the thought had come up "how
do I get out of this suffering", it would
just be more "me" thinking. What
dropped away was this self-oriented "me".
What remained was clear and caring seeing.
The dropping happened by itself. No one can
do it. It is the dying of "doing"
and the opening of simple presence.

If it begins to dawn that there
is suffering going on, it may be possible to
inquire directly into the heart of it to see
if there really is this strong sense of "me"
as the thing that is a victim - or if perhaps
on closer inspection there is something else
really going on. Maybe we can call this a "strategy"
for working with suffering. To be with it,
to listen to it, without any goal or self-interest
but just to find out what it really is. To
discover how suffering is propogated by bringing
up the hurt, the insult, the harsh words, the
memory of the pain, in thoughts, again and
again. To discover that all of it revolves
around a sense of "me" being hurt,
and that this sense of me is produced by the
thoughts. By watching carefully to see what
this "me" really is and perhaps discovering
for oneself that there is nothing tangible
there. This is the action of presence - ownerless
presence that doesn't need defending.

If suffering is going on, the
idea of dealing with it, eradicating it, coping
with it, freeing oneself from it, these are
all most likely more thinking, causing a conflict
between the turmoil that is going on and the
effort to separate from it and manipulate it
somehow. If one is honest about it, it can
be detected that this just adds more suffering
in the form of additional turmoil or of using
one set of thoughts to suppress another set
of thoughts, which is blind and exhausting.
And yet this is how most of us live most of
the time. Entire religions and ethical systems
are based on - or at least interpreted by practitioners
as - offering strategies to deal with suffering
without ever examining carefully what suffering
really is and without exposing the sense of
"me" that is at the heart of painful
thinking. When this is exposed thoroughly,the
cycle of suffering-producing thoughts simply
doesn't arise. It is seen at a glance for what
it is and dropped. It is replaced with love
and care and intelligence. Examining suffering,
discovering what is really going on without
even identifying it as suffering, sitting still
in the midst of the hurricane of it and listening
vulnerably, with nothing to defend. This is
already the expression of open presence. It
is both the first step in finding the end of
suffering and it is itself the final step,
the alternative to suffering. This may sound
paradoxical!

Thanks for the opportunity to
explore this for myself and with you. Good
luck in your project.

Dialogue.
Inability to Engage. Simple Happiness.

R: I find it hard to study, concentrate
and motivate myself. How can I use meditation
to gain more focus, to concentrate better and
study?

Jay: Hi, R. Could you say some
more about, first of all whether you have some
experience with meditation, and secondly, could
you please write a paragraph explaining more
about your difficulty studying, what other
kind of concentration you are talking about,
for example what kind of situations and also
what you mean about motivating yourself - in
what situations, what context. Do you mean
you don't have goals for your life? Do you
mean you can't get out of bed or hold down
a job?

Also can you say more about what
is behind the inability to concentrate and
to motivate yourself? Is there depression?
Trauma? Scatteredness?

I don't mean to turn the question
back on you but it would be hard to say anything
meaningful without understanding more about
where you are coming from. Meditation, from
my perspective, is not a mental focusing tool
but rather is the inquiring into oneself, shedding
light internally. So I wonder if you can do
that a bit - look into what you mean and what
this inability to focus is about - so that
we can have a meeting of the minds and look
at how meditative work may help.

R: [I] hardly [have experience
with meditation] but i have tried pranayam
10-15 times. I am not really a bad learner
and recently I have improved for no reason.
I just can't get myself to study. Its so boring
and apart from that it's useless. All the stuff
is useless. How does it help us realize God
in any way at all. I just like to wander. It
makes me happy. I don't wish to connect myself
to things or people. That's a drag. As a result,
I don't sit in one place or concentrate or
do anything for long.

Jay: I have a little better sense
now of what you're talking about, though it
is hard to know for sure. I will try to respond
to what you may be saying and if I'm off, you
can correct me and we can keep trying.

There are many different ways
to go with what you are saying. If you are
really moved by wanting to know what this simple,
undirected way of life is that does not get
stuck in things or people and is simple happiness
itself, then you could postpone the studying
and other responsibilities that you have and
devote yourself to discovering what this simple
presence really is. Right now you have a taste
of it, it seems, but there may be many questions
in the mind and much confusion about how this
relates to the human world that you need to
live in.

It is possible to resolve these
concerns and to begin to find one's way and
this happens best through being able to do
lots of extended sitting, preferably with others
and with people who have been doing this for
a long time. You do not need to learn any meditation
practice or skills. Just learn to sit quietly
and be in touch with what is here, inside and
out, in this happy way you talk about. This
being present will deepen and deepen in you
and around you.

I can recommend the Springwater
Center in western NY because it is a place
that is free of particular traditions or approaches
and can allow you to find your natural way.
The woman who is the spiritual leader there
also has many years experience doing this meditative
work and can help out.

If you can do this sincerely
for maybe 5 years or so, just working formal
jobs enough to pay for your basic expenses,
you will most likely find that much will clarify
about this simple presence and you will be
able to enjoy people and things without being
stuck to them. You will also probably find
that you can concentrate when you need and
want to and can let go of concentration when
it's time is done. You will be able to live
a natural life, seeing simplicity and happiness
in all things.

I think I'll stop here with this.
If what I've said does not do anything for
you at all, please write back and say a little
more.

Dialoge,
10/26/07 Third Eye Meditation

T: For quite some time I have
been practicing third eye meditation at night
to get myself to sleep after I wake up around
2 or 3 in the morning. Thati is the only reason
I use it. Well, I have been doing this for
so many years and have experienced the light
the dark the colors the sounds etc. The strangest
thing lately is the actually body of someone,
usually a man, that presents himself usually
hugging me from behind. It has happened many
times how and now I actually speak and ask
for a name. I get a response as well. This
only happens when I am in bed and it is not
a dream because I am totally aware of what
is happening.

WHAT is this? I have been reading
about this sort of meditation and angels and
was told to go ahead and ask questions of these
spirits. They actually answer, but in a very
muffled tone. Can you give me any insight?
In order for this to occur I must do the thirrd
eye meditation and then I go into a trance
with sounds, colors etc. I have just decided
I need to share this because my friends think
I have lost my mind. I am not uncomfortable
with this happening because I can make it go
away at any time. I am just enchanted.

Jay: I understand what you are
talking about and have had similar things happen.

When this happens to me, I'm
not so much concerned with whether there is
some real entity "out there" and
learning its story, because when I've followed
that up, I usually find that it was my own
imagination filling it all in anyway. Sometimes
I've followed the story that comes out when
I do that and I have always found if I stick
with it, that it becomes contradictory and
just keeps sort of unfolding in illogical ways
and just becomes really entwined with who I
am at that moment. So I don't believe any more
that it is some particular spirit or person
communicating some "real world" information
to me.

But I do find that whatever imagery
is unfolding is communicating something about
my own feelings and patterns and nervous system,
so I just let it unfold and listen to it and
try to let go of manipulating it too much.
I just take it as new information coming from
that presence which is beyond my "personal"
information. When it is done, I return to just
unknowing listening, kind of reach out into
the space around me into the area in which
my thoughts and sensations don't really reach.
It seems like this is where wisdom, insight
and compassion really come from, whether there
is some particular experience like you described
that is touching me or no particular experience,
just being in touch directly with this open
presence that is all around.

When I do that right now, I can
also say that that open presence moves right
through what I had called the "inside"
in the paragraph above. So now there is not
an inside or outside, just open, sensitive
presence everywhere. And I notice that when
I start thinking about making an interesting
experience of it, that open space starts to
close up again.

You asked "what is this"
and right now I can say I don't want to make
a knowable thing out of it, because when I
start thinking about that, it closes down.
So I just stay with everything that is here,
open and listening and not knowing.

Usually we are wrapped up in
what we think of as our lives and we don't
experience this. Then when the mind is somehow
open, like at night half asleep, something
may touch our cocoon, like the feeling you
described. Maybe the most open way to respond
is just to listen with a still mind and see
if there really is a boundary between "out
there" and "in here" or if it
is possible to let go of being isolated and
defended and see if it is possible to open
up lovingly and unknowingly and unconditionally
to the whole world.Back to Writings Menu

Reflections,
6/5/07. Resistance to discomfort versus interest
in it. Discomfort in group dialogue.

Some reflections on what moves
us toward meditative presence and what moves
us away from it. First of all, by meditative
presence I mean coming to be, quietly, without
what happens to be going on inside and outside
at this moment. This can mean sitting down
quietly for meditative time or just coming
to a stop in the middle of the hurricane in
order to really listen to what's going on.
It can also take place in meditative discussion,
listening quietly to oneself and to others,
with the possibility of verbalizing questions,
confusions or observations that come up.

What moves us toward this? I
was going to look at that first but on reflection
it seems that the stopping and listening is
a natural response, isn't it? So maybe the
more interesting question is what is it the
continually moves us away from whole listening
presence. I don't think it's much of a mystery
to most people who have done even a little
sitting that there is a momentum acting in
the nervous system that does move away from
listening. It wants to move physically, to
control mentally, to quickly discharge the
discomfort that arises when we face the difficult
issues of our lives. Whether at a certain moment
there will be a still listening - which can
take place even if the body is moving and the
mind is examining thoughts - or there will
be a sweeping along with the momentum just
depends on the relative strengths of these
two different impulses.

Immediately on writing this,
the mind pushes up the thought that a "good
meditator" will try to work toward being
present all the time. In other words the mind
creates that as an ideal. Well, good luck.
It doesn't take too much observation to find
that such a mental goal doesn't really have
much impact. It is a big relief not to think
about presence or lack of presence in terms
of which is good and which is bad. It frees
us up to simply observe carefully what is going
on without knowing.

So what is this momentum that
moves us away from listening? Can it first
of all be discovered that it does exist and
maybe then how it works? Fearfulness of being
in pain or discomfort. Fearfulness of falling
into boredom or emptiness. Fearfulness of mental
confusion. Among other things.

In our group discussions I see
these same dynamics coming up. The discomforts
that we feel in communication with others -
the difficulty of listening to someone ramble
on too much, of not relating to what someone
is saying and then feeling stupid, of feeling
awkward with the personalities present or with
the physical surroundings, of feeling not understood,
of feeling offended by someone's remarks, of
feeling ignored, of feeling foolish in what
one is trying to say. Meditative discussion
cannot guarantee an environment that is free
from these usual dynamics of communication
that make it so hard for us to communicate
well with each other in daily life. It can
only offer the opportunity to listen to the
discomforts that come up, to realize that these
issues are with us in most of our relationships,
to wonder what is really going on and to feel
more directly into it.

In starting to notice how the
nervous system responds to discomfort brought
up by the real or imagined actions of other
people or ourselves, is there not a natural
interest to look more closely, to see if a
better, more fluid way of living and interacting
with others may not present itself? Instead
of moving away from all of it, to see if it
is possible to move into the discomfort and
stay with it enough to intelligently find out
what is really going on.

There have been many times when
I've felt that someone attending our group
discussion did not have a "pleasant"
experience, for the reasons mentioned above.
Of course we all hope to belong to groups in
which we are understood, cared for, in which
there are no real conflicts and we all agree
with each other. Some groups do manage to create
this impression but the cost is that they avoid
conflict and reinforce each other's blindnesses.
It is not the purpose of our group to do this
but rather to have an opportunity to be in
touch with these human dynamics if the interest
is stronger than the momentum to move away.

L: I am just getting into mediation
seriously for the first time in my life after
having started and stopped numerous times.
First, I am having trouble with sitting and
aliging my posture. I have old sports injuries
in my shoulders that make it difficult to sit
upright. Is it okay to lay down and if not
what is another way?? ALso, I have had panic
attacks for about three years now. I am on
medication for it and they are generally controlled.
However, I have recently noticed that as I
enter deeper levels on mediation I get panicky
and find myself wanting to snap back into it,
for lack of a better term. What do you think
causes this? Thanks for any advice!

Jay: As far as your posture,
you can certainly experiment. The only problem
with lying down may be that you may get sleepier
than you would otherwise. I sit a lot on a
couch or in an easy chair, where there is some
support for my back. You can also support your
hands so that your arms don't pull down on
your shoulders too much. I sometimes use a
cushion or even a rolled up sock under my hands.

I'm not sure if you what you
are saying with "wanting to snap back
into it". Do you mean that there is a
tendency to want to fall back into panicking?

You ask what I think causes this.
Let's see if it's possible to look more closely
at what "this" is, what is this phenomenon
that we are calling panic. I think in asking
what causes this we usually are saying, "Here
is something troublesome. Is there a way for
it to change?" Of course , the doctors
or psychologists may have some useful insights.
But the most direct way to find out if something
can change is to see, hear and feel it openly,
vulnerably. First, finding out what it really
is. In fact, this openness to a habit pattern
itself induces change. Does this make sense
to you or not?

If the panic comes up, you are
the only one who can decide whether the body
needs to be protected from it by stopping meditation
or taking more medication or something else
that is known to short circuit the panic. There
are certainly times when avoiding the panic
may be the best thing for the poor nervous
system. There may be other times, though, when
it is possible to let this "panic"
reaction come into the light of silent, caring
observation.

You can wonder what triggers
it. Is it an image, a memory , an auditory
memory, a whole body feeling? Is it something
that happens too fast to catch. Reactive patterns
seem to be old circuits that can be triggered
by something - some sensory input that then
triggers some memory - and suddenly the entire
pattern is active with however it affects the
body, the nerves, the thoughts and emotions,
etc. Some patterns, when they are activated,
can be very draining and painful and very resistant
to any "strategies" for getting them
over faster. And then every time the pattern
"runs", there is added to it the
memory of the pain and discomfort and confusion,
so that there comes to be an aversion added
on top of the original traumatic pattern.

This is a description but it
can be noticed very directly for oneself.

The amazing thing is that interest
in really opening to this process, of not resisting
but rather of really finding out what it is,
of giving the whole thing room to reveal itself,
this interest - what can we say? - it touches
the pattern with affection. This is healing
and revealing.

Who is panicked about what? Most
reactive patterns believe that they are protecting
something vital - from harm, from pain, from
death. Even if there is no sense of what the
panic thinks the danger is, I can look carefully,
when panic comes up, to see if there is any
danger right now that can be seen, heard, felt,
smelled, sensed. And it is also possible then
to ask if there is any danger perceived right
now by thinking. Of course I can drum up any
endless number of things that are dangerous
but to ask, is this really a danger right now
as I sit here? Is this enough of a danger that
I need to panic about it right now? Maybe I
will need to worry about it later, but can
it be put aside for right now while I'm sitting,
listening?

These are just some things that
come to mind about panic. They may or may not
apply to your situation. But why not experiment,
always being able to come to rest in just listening,
feeling, seeing what all is broiling in the
body/mind and at the same time - and perhaps
this is the important part - to notice that
there can be a spaciousness around the reaction,
that reaction is not all there is. The listening,
feeling, noticing comes out of a spaciousness,
a vulnerable willingness to be with what is.Back to Writings Menu

Dialogue,
5/2/07 What does it mean that the body reflects
our history and character? What is the proper
thing to focus on?

L: I'd like to start practicing
Zen meditation. I know what posture should
I take to do this, but I'd like to ask you
what should I focus on when already doing this.
What's most important when you're trying to
meditate: breathing, being relaxed etc. What's
most important, how to do it in the right way.
Could you give me any directions?

Also: Some martial artist described
his experience in this way:

“It was the last exercise,
and I thought if I hadn't gotten it in fourteen
days what difference could this one exercise
make? So, I was just enjoying myself. For some
reason, I decided to go up out the top of my
head a distance that felt like several feet
above me. It felt like I would go up there
and meet my diad partner, Neil, like we joined
up there. And then, quite to my surprise, I
had an experience of what the Zen people call
the Void. That of Absolute Existence. There
was no distance, no time, no space . . . nothing.

I guess my appearance changed
dramatically at the time, since, after we were
done with the exercise, Neil started jumping
up and down and pointing, exclaiming how different
my face looked, saying, "You should look
in a mirror!" I hadn't looked in a mirror
for fourteen days. When I got home, I walked
up to a full-length mirror and looked at myself
and it was a deep shock to my body. It was
a shock because I saw a body that I had known
before, and it wasn't me! Not that my appearance
had changed. The familiarity is what shocked
me. In some sense, I had forgotten that I had
a body. It's like the body reflected my history,
my character, my ideas, my personality, all
the things I had thought I was. All the things
I had been being. Without thinking about it,
I guess I really expected my reflection not
to show up.”

What did he experience? What
does it mean that his body reflected his history
and character? Thank You

Jay: It's an interesting observation
that the body reflects our history, our character,
our personality. These are the things that
the mind holds onto continually, aren't they?
It's what I think I am - my past, my story
of myself, my qualities, such as being an outgoing,
likeable person or being a depressed person
or being an important person or being a person
who transcends things, the tools and strategies
that I've learned in order to survive, to not
fall into painful situations, to get what I
need.

Is this not what the mind involves
itself in day and night, almost constantly?

And how can this help but be
reflected in the body? If I am sad, the shoulders
droop, the eyelids droop, the eyes become watery,
the stomach takes on a certain condition, the
heart slows down, etc. It's all wired together,
the thoughts and the various physical parts
of the body. Sometimes when I look at an old
person it seems like their problems with their
body are reflections of their habits of thinking
and living. The body is no longer creative,
experimental, seeking healthiness, but just
goes along in its usual habit, even though
that habit over the years reveals itself to
be a lameness or slouching or stiffness.
This brings up questions: Is this history and
personality that we live in constantly all
that there is or is there something else? What
is it like if that is let go of? And what is
this history, this personality really? Have
I ever looked closely to see what it really
comes from, how it really affects the body
and the mind? Is the mind something other than
just these continual thinkings about my story?
Or is there a mindfulness that is not habitual,
not history, not based on defending something,
a presence of mind that is fresh and responsive
and alive with what is right here and real?

When you sit, you can raise these
questions if they are real for you at the time
and then, not trying to answer them with what
you know or imagine, let the question go and
just let what is really going on be seen, felt,
heard, moment by moment. In this very simple
presence the nature of our way of thinking
is revealed for what it really is. Good is
revealed as good and unhelpful is revealed
as unhelpful. Maybe something about how we
live is seen for what it is for the first time
in our lives.

This listening and seeing without
knowing, without a purpose other than letting
life reveal itself, is already the opening
into a new way of being. In this, the body
does take on a different configuration. It
may not be visible to others or dramatic, but
there is an ease that is felt when defending
my story has given way to being with what is
really here, with interest. To being here.

This inquiry into what one is
when the story, the personality, time pressure,
fear are not dominating the mind is a bottomless
question. There is no dark habit that cannot
come into the light and melt away if this goalless
presence is given enough chance to operate.

You can take a comfortable posture.
Don't be too concerned that there is a correct
posture. It's helpful to be somewhat upright,
so you don't get too sleepy, but it is fine
to sit in a chair or on a couch. It is for
you to experiment with. You ask what to focus
on, but why focus? Why not by open to the sounds,
the light, as well as noticing what is happening
internally? Why not discover what is really
going on, even if it questions your ideas about
yourself?

Maybe it is helpful to try to
include the awareness of the body along with
whatever else is coming into awareness. When
we're lost in thought, we imagine we're accomplishing
marvelous things but the fact is that the awareness
of the body is usually gone or limited during
that thinking. Since you are interested in
what the body is when it is free of history
and personality, when it is flexible and healthy,
it may help to include the body as an instrument
of presence. You will sometimes realize that
you have been lost in thought. In that momemt
of realizing, it will be clear that the body
had been lost and now is back. See if you can
let presence come from the body itself, grounded
in the belly. But don't make a big thing of
it. Just see if you can find what is natural.

These are just some suggestions.
It is for you to discover for yourself, but
there are so many "techniques" that
one can get caught up in instead of just being
with what is here. What can be simpler than
just being here?

There are some places you can
go to meditate with others where the emphasis
is on this simple presence. There are also
7 day retreats, which allow you to go deeper
into this.Back to Writings Menu

Dialogue,
3/28/07. Death.

Y: What should I do if I'm worried
about not feeling any consiousness after death?

Jay: Can you tell me a little
more about what your concern is? Maybe you
can explain your worry to me in a paragraph
so I understand more.

I can understand the feeling
of anxiety about death, not because of just
the body dying but because it is the end of
"me". And it may feel like consciousness
is the essence of "me". Please tell
me if you mean something like this or something
different.

Of course consciousness will
end at death. And the story of myself will
end. These are facts. Are you saying that you
are not able to accept these facts?

Y: I'm worried about not feeling
any part of my body. Like you don't exsist
any more and you're just gone eternally.

J: Let's look at this together.
First, I think we can agree that when you are
dead, this will not be an issue. You are not
concerned with the anxiety you may feel when
you are dead because then there will be no
feeling of body and no sense of existence.
So your concern really is a current concern
right now. Your anxiety is that you will in
the future lose something that you have now
that you don't want to lose.

Do you see that when this anxiety
comes up, it is all happening in imagination,
in mental pictures. The mind is creating a
picture of what it thinks "I" am
now and a mental picture of what it would be
like to be nothing, no body, no existence.
But none of these pictures are the real thing.
They are not even close. Do you see why I say
that?

Since you are alive, it is not
possible to explore what death of the body
is in reality. However, it is possible to explore
what the absence of all of this mental picturing
and anxiety are. It is possible to sit quietly
and wonder what this "existence"
is other than all of the pictures, ideas, fears
and concerns I have about it.

You may discover that there is
an almost constant stream of mental imagery
going on, so that all I can honestly say is
that there really has been no perception of
this existence at all, other than the mental
buzz. But at moments, there may be a momentary
break in this. A moment in which there is just
what is here - the bright sunshine, the cool
spring breeze, the sound of keys on the keyboard,
the heaviness of the body. And in this moment
it is clear that no mental picture of this
comes even close to capturing it. It is uncapturable
- one moment moving right into the next.

It is true that the thinking
mind is anxious over many things, or rather
over the idea of many things. That seems to
be its job - to be anxious. But to look right
here and ask "what is this existence right
now", to be here with life as it unfolds
while this body/mind is still alive. This is
a different approach to the question. You are
worried about not existing in the future but
in fact we don’t experience our lives
now. We miss most of our life because we are
lost in thoughts about everything, planning
for it to go on forever and fearing that it
won't.

There are people who have been
told they had a terminal illness and then dropped
their "lives", ie., their ordinary
way of thinking, living for the future - jobs,
relationships, interests, fears. They dropped
concern for the future and suddenly discovered
that they were now alive in a new and fresh
way - a way that had nothing to do with time.
Just this moment and this moment.

At the moment of death, the ideas
about Y will die. But if you look carefully
during your life, you may discover that the
real Y is not something that can die. I don't
mean anything about the personality or the
characteristics of the mind or body. The real
Y is something else that is right here every
moment. If you can discover what this is, life
and death will not be a burden.

Please write back with questions
or comments or let me know if I have not been
very clear.Back to Writings Menu

Dialogue
between “O” and Jay, Feb. 27, 2007

O: Hi Jay. I hope you’re
doing fine. I continue to meditate regularly,
although the last two weeks have been very
painful, so much that I am now only meditating
about 5 minutes in the morning and the evening.
What has been coming up is fear, but mostly
grief.

Jay: Hi, “O”. I have
been considering recently these powerful reaction
circuits such as fear and grief, so let's take
a look at these. First, what do we mean by
grief. I don't know exactly how you are using
the word but it usually means a sadness, a
sorrow, which often has behind it the loss
of something or someone or the inability to
get or do something that seems important. It
may be something specific that is lost or unattainable
or it may be more general, even a feeling of
hopelessness of being able to do anything about
one's life.

If the nervous system is completely
in the grip of this reaction that we are calling
grief, then there is very little if any awareness
of what is going on. Instead there is just
a depression of the energies or the ongoing
thinking in circles over and over of how hopeless
I am or how unfair things are.

If there is a little bit of awareness
around this process, a little bit of letting
go of the self pity or self loathing, then
there starts to be a little more noticing of
the thinking in circles, of the self-destructive
quality of the thoughts. And yet it still goes
on or it quiets down but then comes back. There
may seem to be a battle between the habit of
wanting to wallow in pity or sorrow and the
interest in being with what is going on without
falling into it. It often seems like the energy
of falling into the reaction is so strong and
the energy of staying with what's happening
is so feeble or tentative.

What to do? First of all, not
to assume that the energy of presence will
be feeble the next moment just because it seems
feeble this moment. When there is a serious
need to be present with what is going on, the
energy for that may suddenly be here on its
own. It finds its own way through us.

When we've seen the same reaction
patterns so many times, have seen how destructive
they are, how unhelpful, how they close in
on themselves and make themselves stronger
through repetition and reinforcement, is there
not a strong interest in finding out if it
is possible to be open to this entire reaction
pattern without - for a moment at a time -
falling into it?

Part of this being open to the
reaction is wondering what this really is if
I don't call it grief, don't even call it a
reaction. What is really happening that is
observable if I don't move away from the storm
and don't fall into the storm. The falling
into the reaction really is a moving away from
presence, isn't it? "I'm too tired to
stick with this. It's too hard." and then
soon the old thoughts are going around and
around again, digging themselves in deeper.

This interplay back and forth
between falling into reaction and the energy
arising to really be with an old pattern in
a new way is how we live most of the time.
But if there is a very strong interest, the
energy may come to just sit with this thing
no matter what, with no regard for time, for
results. Just presence that allows the whole
panorama to reveal itself.

This deep interest that we are
talking about may take the form of questions
- what is this hurricane if I don't call it
anything - what is it that I've never seen
about this before, even in all the years it
has been a plague - what is it that kicks this
reaction back in again just when it is slowing
down - what is it that I think I'm trying to
protect or defend or maintain? For each of
us the questions may be different moment to
moment. They are a conscious expression of
this interest and change as the reality of
what is going on unfolds. The questions bring
with them additional energy of interest. Once
they are raised, the questions can then drift
into the background and let the interest in
sticking with what is going on continue, observing
with one's whole being.

A good question may be "What
is this thing of a pattern revealing itself?
For all of my trying to work with these things,
I've never in my life seen a pattern revealed
thoroughly. All I've seen is wrestling back
and forth, falling into the old gloom, getting
a bit of perspective for a moment, falling
back into it with more or less intensity. I've
dreamt of being cured of the reaction, of being
rid of it, but that's done little good. If
there is such a thing as being able to be with
a reaction in a new, fresh way, thoroughly
without falling into it, it must be possible
for me to find out about it."

This being with something is
not an act of tolerating it, riding it out,
toughing it out. Nor is it an act of trying
to balance the reaction with “good”.
It is an interest, an openness, a sensing with
subtlety and in total stillness while the comings
and goings of the mind and body and nervous
system reveal themselves. You may discover
that this alert presence, this stillness, is
not tainted or diminished by any of what is
going on. This presence reveals not only what
is happening inside us but also what is happening
in the world all around. Presence itself is
the opposite of the self-enclosure that is
at the core of reactive habits. Presence reveals
self-enclosure. In presence with what is here,
it is clear that the image of a person who
I miss is only an image and that bringing it
up again and again only moves away from the
simplicity and fullness of what is here. That's
all. That is seeing it through and through
as an image, a fragmented mental picture that
is not an accurate representation of the person
themself.

Maybe this is enough for now.
Please write back and ask about things that
I may not have been very clear about.Back to Writings Menu

Questioning
Without Answering - February 8, 2007

I think we can all agree that
when there is some quietness, when we disengage
for a time from the usual physical and mental
doing and just listen, more of what is actually
here at this moment, inside and out, is revealed.
Can we also say that this quiet space that
opens up also seems, in some invisible way,
to help the complications that we may have
brought with us from the day’s events
to somehow sort themselves out a bit? This
seems to go on in the background, without the
need for conscious “figuring it all out”.

I’d like to explore here
the role of actively questioning, in addition
to this silent, invisible “processing”
that seems to happen. Many of our activities,
maybe most of them, are grounded in patterns.
The personality itself is a complex of these
patterns. How I relate to other people, whether
I’m shy, aggressive, friendly. How I
organize or avoid organizing events of my life.
What circumstances or activities make me feel
safe. What circumstances or activities are
threatening. What I expect a partner to be
like. How I expect them to look at me, to talk
to me. What kind of “future” I
envision. These are examples of clusters of
patterns that reflect and constitute what we
consider to be “me”.

For most of us these patterns
are sources of occassional pleasure and regular
conflict, confusion, separation and pain. Maybe
I feel safe with people I know but my partner
always takes me to places with people who I
feel unsafe with. I want to be with my partner
but I don’t want to feel unsafe. So two
patterns are painfully in conflict. Maybe I
take this out on my partner because I have
a strong expectation that they should be concerned
with my well being and a new conflict is born.
And then I get the feeling my partner is sick
of my complaining and that I’ll lose
her, and there is yet another conflict between
not wanting to lose her and wanting to proctect
myself. And on and on.

These patterns are for most of
us largely unexamined. Or perhaps they’ve
been examined through therapy or talking with
others or self reflection but still seem to
cause problems. If a pattern is still causing
problems, there is more to it that has not
yet been seen, even if one feels they have
exhausted observing it, thinking about it,
etc. How can there be more transparency brought
into a pattern so that something is seen that
wasn’t seen before?

First of all, most of our patterns
we usually defend vigorously. If someone says,
“Why are you always so compulsive about
(fill in the blank)?” There is often
an immediate defense reaction. We feel the
other person is too lax and would be better
off if they were more like us, that they are
just reacting to our having it together. Or
we believe they just have an ax to grind, are
trying to get even with us or are angry with
us. We may think that if they did more meditation,
they would understand why I do what I do. But
why not look right here to see if there is
compulsiveness and to find out by being in
direct touch what this really is?

Defensiveness itself, while sometimes
obvious to us, can be subtle and difficult
to detect. Defensiveness can best be seen from
a presence that has no agenda, nothing to defend.

Let’s come back to the
pattern of not feeling comfortable around people
I don’t know. Can I start to observe
what is happening in that situation, while
it is happening? Suppose there is a strong
feeling that in talking with a new person,
I have to keep conversation going, that if
I am silent for a moment, something very awkward
may happen. In the middle of talking with some
one that way, there may be a very powerful
resistance to even trying being quiet for a
moment. Habit may propel the talking onward.

Well, this is a discovery, isn’t
it? The strength of the habit may not have
been so clear before. From this insight, there
might spring forth a new question, for example
a wondering whether it would be possible to
stop in the talking for even a second to see
what happens. Maybe in the next social situation
this still doesn’t happen, but there
has been a change from all of the energy going
into running the pattern to some of the energy
being in the interest to uncover what is happening.

How does this critical change
happen? Is it from starting to question what
is really behind these strongly defended patterns
that we can start to detect are running in
our lives? Not taking them at face value –
“oh, everybody get’s jealous”
or “I’m just not a people person”
– but rather seeing for oneself what
“jealousy” really is in this body/mind.
These questions come up spontaneously out of
non-personal field of awareness. “If
I don’t just say it’s jealousy
and make a fixed thing out of it, what is really
going on? I’ve never really watched it.”

Can a pattern be watched not
from the stand point of what I already know
or what I already want but without knowing?
This space of awareness that sheds light on
patterns is not grounded in what is known.
It is much larger. Just sitting with a presence
that allows all of the inner turmoil to be
revealed in as much depth as possible.

In my observation, patterns are
grounded in the defense of something, the preservation
of something. Often the sense is that it is
my very survival that is at stake, or at least
my equanimity, my state of not being in pain
and wanting to avoid pain, or my state of experiencing
pleasure and not wanting it to be interrupted.

Can there being a quiet presence
that has nothing to lose?

Our usual way of thinking wants
a quick answer. If I can figure out what’s
wrong, then I’ll use that information
to control things in a better way. Can this
also be let go of? Not looking for information
to use to make better patterns, to control
things more effectively, to learn how to get
along. Just finding this space of presence
that does not need to know, does not need to
control, is not concerned with the future.

In this presence the whole question,
the whole pattern, the whole history of the
problem, may be forgotten. It fades into the
background, with just simple awareness here.
The questioning doesn’t have to be brought
back into consciousness, but the fact that
there has been questioning of the patterns
at some point seems to help with this silent,
behind the scenes “processing”
that we talked about. Each person can discover
this for themselves.Back to Writings Menu

Overcoming
the Senses? - Dialogue, 12/21/06

Question: I know we must overcome
the senses, but what is the best way to do
so? Further, should i attempt to extinguish
physical aspects such as pain along with the
mental thoughts such as anger? Do not humans
need pain as a warning? Thank you for your
time and insight : ).

Jay:
You are certainly right that
pain has a purpose, so let's take a fresh look
together (I am considering this now myself)
at the role of the senses.

First, I wonder what you mean
by "overcome" the senses. Maybe you
mean overcome attachment to sensations, in
other words things like being driven to repeat
sexual sensations or other pleasant sensations.
Or maybe you are referring to not wanting unpleasant
sensations. You may have the impression that
spiritual work involves avoiding the senses.

Even if some people in the past
may seem to have talked in these terms (and
we often don't know how people were defining
their terms in the past), we need to look at
this issue very carefully, each of us for ourselves.
So, suppose I see a beautiful sunset. Where
is the problem in this sensory experience?
Not only is the sunset seen but the air is
felt, maybe the sound of water at the beach
is heard, and the body and nervous system respond
to this peaceful setting and there is a feeling
of relaxation, release of tensions, and pleasantness.
It strikes me that usually we are not sensing
- we are caught up in thought and very little
of this is experienced at all. It is a wonderful
thing to be able to sense simply and clearly
in a situation.

You can pose this as a question
for yourself to explore - is it possible at
all to sense simply without it becoming a problem?
Then observe both in sitting and moving through
life. If you start to do this, it may strike
you that it is impossible - that there is a
constant stream of thinking that is manipulating
each sensory input. But don't give up. Keep
looking carefully to see if simple sensing
is possible without sensing being a problem.

You talk about extinguishing
"mental thoughts such as anger."
Let's look more closely at what you might mean.
I'm not sure what you mean by extinguish. People
use expressions like this in different ways.
If anger arises in the mind/body as you are
sitting or interacting with people, what is
the extinguishing? Is it repressing it, shoving
it down someplace, covering it over with positive
thoughts, concentrating on something so the
anger is put in the background? All of these
things can be done, though they are a lot of
work and don't necessarily shed light on the
anger.

Simple awareness of the angry
thought patterning running is also possible,
much like simple sensing of a sunset. In simple
awareness the nature of the process is revealed,
maybe partially, without the clutch being engaged
to act out the anger. There is no conflict
between the anger pattern and the observation.
There is no attempt to manipulate what is happening
in the mind but rather there is an allowing
it to be revealed. In this, the nature of the
anger patterning may be revealed in part or
in whole, which is a healing. Often people
report that when this happens the anger seems
to change, transform, melt away. It doesn't
really matter whether it goes away or continues.
The important thing is that what is happening
- an old pattern running - can be revealed
in a space of still, sensitive, intelligence.

Can anger be gotten rid of forever?
I don't know. That requires theorizing about
anger. So instead of theorizing, can the focus
shift to observing sensitively, without moving
away into either reacting against it or extinguishing
it? That way there can be a learning about
anger.

I don't know if I've understood
accurately what you are asking about. Please
feel free to right back and let me know if
your question was a little different from what
I've talked about or if you'd like to go into
this more. It's possible that I haven't been
clear enough, so you can ask for some additional
clarification. I'll look forward to hearing
back. Back to Writings
Menu

Reasons
Not to Go to Retreat - 11/25/06

Probably for everyone the minute
you consider the possibility of going to retreat,
the mind is filled with all of the reasons
why it’s impossible. “I have too
much work to do. I have too many things going
on around the house. I don’t know what
to do with the kids, the animals, the plants,
the house. I can’t get away from work.
My partner is counting on me. I can’t
afford to lose the pay and to spend money on
the retreat.”

You may have these same things
come up even when you are considering a vacation
or pleasure trip. Or in fact when you are considering
anything that takes you outside of your regular
routine. Isn’t there always some anxiety
in letting go a bit of the routine? Of course
with a vacation there is the image of some
beautiful or relaxing or exciting alternative
that makes the decision easier. This is really
just an image – the actual experience
of the vacation may be very different from
the imagination of it - but the decision is
being made in imagery or at least in agreement
with the imaging process, with the imagination,
so imagination has to concur that the final
decision suits it.

In considering retreat, what
image is there to counteract the thought of
letting go of routine? Maybe none at all. After
all, retreat is a situation in which our usual
patterns don’t apply. Retreat doesn't
lend itself to the strong image of a different
but rewarding change of pace that makes it
seem worth the discomfort of ripping away from
routine. So considering the pull of the very
powerful anxiety over leaving our routine,
it is a miracle that anyone would arrange to
go to retreat at all.

How, then, does anyone get to
retreat? First of all, people who have done
some meditation, even occasionally, have probably
experienced that they feel better afterwards.
So there may be the image that a lot of meditation
would feel a lot better – a good recharging
for an overworked nervous system. This probably
does bring a lot of people to retreat. And
there is no doubt that people feel refreshed
after a retreat. But for others, this still
may not be a strong enough motive to overcome
the discomfort of stepping out of routine.
After all, I can instead sleep in a couple
days, get to the spa and go do some dancing
and will probably feel pretty decent by the
end of the weekend.

I suspect that most people come
to retreat because there is something in their
life, in themselves, that needs to change.
It may not be clear at all what it is but it
may be strongly felt nonetheless. It may have
to do with troublesome reaction habits. It
may have to do with a sense of the prison-like
quality of our seemingly safe and comforting
routine. It may have to do with a deep sense
of isolation. It may have to do with the undeniable
fact of loss in our lives. It may have to do
with a deep sense of disturbance over the human
condition. It may have to do with knowing at
some level that there is a deeper possibility
of connection, of beauty and of direct experience
of life, a possibility that has been lost with
age, with experience.

Extended retreat time does allow
the possibility of entering more fully into
these concerns and the possibility of an ultimate
resolution of them, from which comes a greater
ability to live freely, openly, caringly, in
one’s daily life. Retreat is perhaps
the only way for most of us to do so. The more
one experiences this, the more the mind says,
“Yes, give me four, five, seven, days
away from the routine to enter into presence
with others!”

If we want to put it in a linear
way, we can say that being in touch with these
deeper concerns of life provides the motivation
to want to enter into silent presence, which
allows the possibility of the resolution and
healing of these concerns and the possibility
of being able to live more fully and openly.
But isn’t it true that one of the functions
of routine is to dull these concerns, keep
us from feeling them too much, keep the feelings
at a manageable level, have ready answers for
the concerns when they do come up so that they
aren’t felt deeply – oh, don’t
worry. If I do enough meditation, this will
change - maybe hide the concerns altogether?

Maybe a first step is to watch
carefully the interplay between routine and
our deeper concerns. There’s nothing
wrong with routine per se. Retreat has a routine
to it – certain sittings at certain times,
certain meals at certain times – and
it provides a nice, simple framework that one
can forget about and depend on so that the
day to day details don’t take up too
much energy. It is the way routine can be used
to deaden our lives that we can watch. Isn’t
coming more frequently in touch with our deeper
concerns – as uncomfortable as that may
be at times – not already a step away
from hiding and a step into being? Someone
might say, “Well, but my job, my family,
really do require me to be here. I really can’t
get away. I really can’t afford to use
sick days or lose pay.” It may be true
at a certain level. But if one gets sick and
has to stay in bed for a week, there is no
choice but to violate the routine, and yet
most of the time this does not result in the
predicted disaster. In fact I often find that
I was not really missed that much during the
week! My life went along perfectly well without
me.

Does this sound like a battle
between what I want to do and what I think
I should do? Or maybe between what I easily
fall into and what I want to do but can’t
get myself to? No reason to take a battle stance,
though. We can watch this dynamic very carefully
and honestly. Out of this watching, listening,
feeling, comes a new sense of what is important
and what is not. And out of this new sense
will come different actions.

Retreat itself is an opportunity
to watch all of this more closely, to enter
into our lives as they are right now –
the concerns as well as the habits that keep
us from our lives. From this deepening comes
more deepening. And the joy of being in touch.
Back to Writings Menu

The
Nature of Techniques in Meditation - Written
Dialogue, 10/22/06

“N”:
Hi Jay,
I came across one of your posts doing a google
search for 'formless meditation' and was interested
to read some of the replies you've given to
others.

The reason I was looking for
such things in the first place is that I was
looking to relax in my meditation practice,
to cease grasping on tightly for 'the method'
that was going to solve my problems. I've been
meditating on and off for several years, attending
retreats and so on, and over that time experimented
with different methods and traditions, mostly
within Buddhism. However, what I always gravitate
back to is this simple presence you speak of,
that I first read a description of in the book
called 'A Still Forest Pool' by Ajahn Chah.
I couldn't believe meditation could be so simple,
so have since spent a lot of time experimenting
with more formal practices. I notice particularly
in times of stress a craving to follow a more
systematic plan to alleviate the suffering
which sends me on the search for the perfect
method/cure-all once more.

It strikes me that it takes some
faith to trust in the adequacy of the present
moment without structure or expectations. What
I first understood with meditation though is
as true now as it ever was : there's no substitute
for being with what's happening right now,
whatever it is, beyond the particulars of tradition
or technique. It's also a great relief to let
go of needing things to be just so, or get
the technique 'right'. Thanks for the reminder.
I regularly seem to need it :)

I've been considering this issue
of "practice" or meditative technique.
You mention that you "always gravitate
back" to simple presence. Looking at this
carefully, you can check out whether a more
accurate way to describe this is that at times
the mind is engaged in methodology and at times
this drops away and there is a simpler presence,
with perhaps a great deal more revealed in
this simple presence than when "methodology"
was active.

In other words, there is no one
choosing between these two situations - the
desire for methodology manifesting in the mind
and the silence that is revealed when that
is not happening. Either the mind is engaged
in applying techniques or it is quiet. Either
case happens on its own in response to unfathomable
conditions.

I'd like to explore a little
more about this methodology and technique mind.
In observing what happens for myself in this
body/mind, I can say that there is a continual
flux of states of mind and body, a continual
stream of "processes" going on and
changing, moment to moment. At some moments
there are states of “crisis”, we
might say, in which things are recognized as
seeming not quite right, for example a sense
that one is leaning over to one side or a feeling
that one is sinking into a depression.

At such moments there is often
a response that the body/mind comes up with,
maybe certain muscles on one side of the body
tensing to straighten up, or breathing in a
certain way to dispel the feeling of depression,
or self-talking going on to rearrange imagery
(maybe telling oneself about a happy event
so that the mental imagery has a more uplifting
affect.)

These internal responses often
are just based on memory and don't do any lasting
good but it also happens sometimes that something
fresh occurs that is helpful at that moment,
sort of a healing response that is really spontaneous
and fresh at that moment. In either case we
can call these "techniques" or "methods"
because they have the impression of doing something
specific that helps things.

Looking more carefully we can
clarify that by the time the mind sorts out
what the technique was, it has already been
spontaneously conceived and applied. Making
a technique out of it happens after that fact.
Most people also find, especially in retreat,
that the technique that worked so magically
at one moment is completely useless in another
moment and it requires entering back into not
knowing for another appropriate response to
the fresh thing that is going on now to have
a chance to arise.

Is it possible that this strong
tendency to want a method, a practice for arriving
at meditative stillness, comes out of a misunderstanding
of this "techniquing" process that
the body /mind almost always seems to be engaged
in - a process which when it happens spontaneously,
as opposed to reactively imposing a technique
that worked in the past, does have a positive
role in allowing an equanimity in the nervous
system?

We can observe that spontaneous
"techniquing", ie., a spontaneous,
creative response of the nervous system to
its own state, happens best when the mind is
quietest, not holding on to preset techniques,
and yet awake and responsive to the environment.

You say you sometimes can't believe
that meditation can be so simple and so find
yourself trying out different formal practices.
I wonder, if you look at this carefully, what
is really going on. Where is this thought that
it can't be this simple coming from? What is
the mind that is asking this? I am not saying
that the thought is either good or bad. There
may be some inkling of a perception presenting
itself. But rather than taking it a face value
and starting to implement a strategy for making
better progress, is it possible to continue
listening silently, very carefully?

I don't know what you will discover
in doing this. I do know that the moment a
known technique is applied, the simple listening
is diminished or disappears. There may be a
boost of energy but this is not the same as
silent listening.

It is necessary to let go a bit
of the concern for this ongoing flux of the
body/mind. Yes, a healthy nervous system and
body is helpful, if possible. Sometimes it's
not possible. But doesn't this come about best
when the "known" techniques are let
go of and something new is allowed to happen?
Can the mind that needs to know be seen as
part of the flux of mind states?

For most of us there is a very
strong sense that even in meditative work there
is a goal of a better state of body/mind. We
can maybe say that meditative strategies or
practices involve trying to maintain certain
states, becoming stronger at holding onto them,
states which supposedly will lead to something
better. Looking right now I can say that holding
onto certain states is artificial. The body/mind
is in constant flux, which is natural. However,
this changing train of states is not all there
is. It is taking place in a simple space, a
wide, still universe. Can the interest change
from concern with the states of the body and
mind to an interest in the space in which this
all takes place?

You mentioned faith in the adequacy
of the present moment. This shift of interest
that I'm talking about is a shift to faith
in this present moment instead of faith in
what is already known. This is an entering
into not knowing.

Does this lead somewhere? Is
there something besides what I see when I do
sit quietly? Isn't there more to what I am
then just this? No need to say yes or no, or
to say these are just intellectual questions,
but rather, if these questions do seem real,
to listen to them, along with the movement
of the breath, the sound of the fan, the smell
of fall air, listen as openly as possible,
moment by moment.

It is our own deep concerns and
questions that want to be resolved, that want
to know what resolution is, that aren't satisfied
with someone else's explanations. And given
enough space of listening, life itself may
at some point touch a concern and heal it,
clarify it, so that instead of seeing a concern
in front of our eyes, we see life itself and
that this is what we are.

At the moment that a deep concern
for me was clarified, one of the first responses
was the realization that this meditative work
is not about internal states of mind or body.
It is not about mental meditation. It is about
the world itself, from which the body/mind
is not separated at all, whether dark and brooding,
stormy and blustering, or bright and sunny.

Please let me know if I haven't
been very clear about some of the things I've
said or if something sounds incorrect in your
experience.Back to Writings Menu

A
Moment of Wakefulness - Written Dialogue 9/28/06

T:
I've been trying off and on for years to get
a meditation practice started, and I don't
think it's ever lasted for more than a week.
My reason for learning meditation is not just
for stress management; it's to rebuild a connection
to the Source. Call it what you will - the
soul, the universe, the Divine, the Creator,
God, the Higher Self, the Formless - that's
what I want to get in touch with and live my
life through.

But I think part of the problem
is that I'm unsure of what meditation will
really lead to and whether or not it's worth
all the trouble of trying to still this wild
monkey mind. What kinds of changes have you
noticed in yourself over the years that you've
been meditating? Do you feel more inner stillness,
more Presence, more peace of mind? I've worked
with a lot of the Eckhart Tolle material in
order to be more present from moment to moment,
but I think I need more and I'm hoping that
meditation can help lead me to the deeper,
more joyful and peaceful experience of life
that I'm looking for.

Jay:
Yes, I do feel more Presence (with a capital
P) and an absence of many of the deep seated
concerns of early years. I find that meditative
time, especially extended time such as in a
weeklong retreat, allows a great healing of
the confusions and anxieties, the sense of
separation, that beset the nervous system,
the body/mind. In fact, extended meditation
reveals the root of such anxieties so that
they no longer accumulate so much in our daily
living.

I can understand how in daily
meditation it may not feel like much more than
a temporary respite from the usual craziness.
You might start wondering then if you are doing
it wrong. But I think you might find more access
to the Presence that you know is here if you
can attend a longer retreat.

If someone takes up a specific
practice that involves concentrating on things,
repeating things, trying to hold certain states
of mind, this is not the same as simple Presence
and may not allow the simple revealing of the
concerns in open space. Meditative presence
is simple - it is just allowing anything that
is here to be revealed, without knowing what
to do with it, the knower itself being revealed
as it comes up.

I said it is simple but it is
also true that it is not so easy to stay with
this. Over and over again reaction comes up
and takes hold and sweeps the body/mind with
it. But then it stops at some point and the
simple presence is visible, palpable again.

In daily sitting just to be with
this very simply without expecting great changes.
A moment of simple presence IS a great change,
isn't it? It is radically different from the
usual reactive frenzy of the body/mind. So
just letting the presence be when it is here,
letting it take root deeply into whatever we
are, without knowing. It is very ordinary and
yet not usual at all. It is radically ordinary!
Ordinary not in the sense of routine but in
the sense of simple, here, down to earth, alive
in a simple but living way.

I hope this addresses some of
your concerns. I may not have expressed things
very well so please let me know if you'd like
to clarify some of this together.

T:
Thanks so much for your response. It's very
encouraging; that's exactly what I'm hoping
for.

When I meditate, I have to start
out with some kind of object (breath, mantra,
prayer beads, image) to get my mind focused
until I go deeper, then I tend to drop it so
I can create "space" in order to
receive whatever comes up. Unfortunately most
of the time it's nonsense thought, and before
I know it I've attached to it and spent 10
minutes riding it like a wave. When I finally
figure out that I've gone off on a tangent
and manage to bring myself back, I'm frazzled.
I guess what I'm saying is that it's quite
hard for me to maintain the "witness"
state of mind and be an observer of the thoughts
instead of a participant.

A moment of simple presence IS
a great change, indeed, but it's so rare for
me that I get concerned! It seems to only take
a nanosecond before the thoughts, labels, comparisons,
etc. start pouring in from my mind and filling
the space. It's almost as if there's no room
for the witness.

Jay:
I understand what you are saying about getting
lost in the thoughts so quickly. This is an
accurate observation.

Watch this process carefully.
At certain moments there is just presence.
Somehow there is a transition to being lost
in thinking. I don't think this transition
is observable. It is just a falling asleep,
into dreaming. However, the waking up from
it is clear. In the instant of waking up it
is completely clear that there has been daydreaming
and that no matter how pleasant it might have
been (though often it isn't pleasant at all),
it was an out-of-touchness.

All of this is instantaneously
and intuitive clear - thought is recognized
as an arbitrary image and the energy doesn't
continue to go into it.

Do you observe that all this
waking up happens on its own? No one did anything
to bring it about. How could the dreamer possible
dream about waking up? It's just more dreaming,
right? And yet somehow the waking up occurs.

This is very helpful to look
at carefully because there is a strong tendency
when this waking up happens for a whole pattern
of thought to come up saying I should be more
wakeful, I shouldn't have let myself fall into
dreaming, I should do something to avoid falling
into dreaming in the future, what is wrong
with me for not being more awake. By seeing
carefully that the waking happens by itself,
this shows that it is not necessary to think
about how to make it happen.

When there is presence, there
may just be a very gentle and yet deep intention
to be here with this, to be wide open to what
is here. Not necessary to struggle using the
body or mind but just a deepening intention.
Not trying to prevent thought from taking over.
You can experiment with this and will probably
find it is impossible to prevent it. I remember
driving once while very tired and exerting
an effort not to fall asleep, telling myself
to stay awake and drumming up different images
to keep me awake but suddenly I realized that
it had turned into a dream! Dreaming about
trying to stay awake.

This very delicate intention
somehow can call forth a new energy for being
present that is not a struggle against anything.
It is a shift in interest to what is really
here for its own sake! Forget about the dreaming.
It happens on its own and ends on its own.
Shifting the real interest to here.

This can at times seem almost
impossible, the pull of the thinking mass being
so dominant. But I remember a time during retreat
when I felt disturbed by lots of thoughts pulling
here and there and an inability to be awake
- just sort of aware of wallowing in a nightmare
almost. At that time a story about the Buddha
came into the mind in which, in a trying moment,
he had reached a hand out and touched the earth.

This all came up spontaneously
and naturally and my hand reached out and settled
onto the arm of the chair where I was sitting
and there was a deeply confirming sense that
yes there is reality here, very grounding.
The disturbing thought storm did not necessarily
go away or stop but there was a shift to a
deeper sense of presence within the storm.
And a sense of not needing to battle it.

Does this give you the sense
of the possibility of simple presence at moments?
Looking very carefully, in a moment of presence
the thought of how can I get more of this has
no relevance. Nor does the thought that I get
so little of this. You can examine this for
yourself. There is just the intention of being
deeply and vulnerably touched by what is here,
manifesting right now as just this, just this.
In this simple moment there is no need for
time, for measurement, for evaluation, for
my story.

This can blossom forth - out
of nowhere and no one - even when seemingly
lost in a storm of thought.

It's all your own to explore
and discover and clarify for yourself.

T:
Thanks for your email; I hope I got it right!

Maybe the trouble is I'm having
such a hard time being with what's here because
I'm thinking it should be something else. I
have this idea in my head that meditation is
supposed to be 20 minutes of mostly silence
with the occasional thought floating through,
and for me it's the exact opposite. Interesting
that what you say is true...the "coming
around" happens all by itself. But sometimes
it takes so long! Does that ease up over time?
Or does it just depend on the day, as witnessed
by your retreat experience? I would also think
that if you have a lot of "stuff"
that needs to come to the surface, it may also
do that during meditation if there's no other
time for it to come up.

I guess I get frustrated because
I'm trying so hard (too hard?) to create more
space for Presence and I end up swirling in
more thought. Maybe I'm expecting too much
and should be happy with baby steps. After
all, for more than 40 years my mind has been
going non-stop, so it's not going to sit on
the sidelines very easily. I try to take little
moments throughout the day where I just don't
think, and it usually lasts for about 5 seconds
before the thoughts sneak in a take over (usually
beginning with the thought that"I should
be thinking about something"!). Should,
should, should. I guess it's going to take
some practice at simply letting things be how
they are.

Jay:
Yes,
I agree with what you say that there is stuff
that needs to come up and out. It's almost
like the need to dream during sleep. It's a
physiological necessity. In an hour or two
of sitting that may be all that is happening
in the mind. Of course in extended sitting
this changes. There is a chance for this mental
processing to finish and then, because in retreat
there is very little need for mental work or
emotional interaction, there is much less that
needs to clear out and the mind takes on a
different quality. What a relief!

I'm really wondering about this
frustration you're expressing. It's not hard
to understand. But I wonder if it maybe comes
from never having a chance to get past the
clearing process that we talked about above.
Knowing that it is possible but just not having
enough time and space to get beyond just unloading.
Now the thought comes up "But what's the
point of getting a break for a week since I
have to come back and live in this hectic world
anyway? In fact, it might just feel worse or
even unbearable to have to come back to this
busy life if I really do get a chance to get
beyond it. Maybe it's just better to try to
get used to it."

But that train of thought doesn't
really apply, any more than saying Why go to
sleep? I'll just have to go through the agony
of waking up tomorrow. And I can say from personal
experience that there are great changes in
how daily life is lived that grow out of periodically
having a chance to go more deeply into silence.

It may well be possible to work
with this issue in daily life as well. Is it
possible to let go a little of all of the expressions
of "my life" moment to moment? I
mean to let go of the sense of importance of
my economic future, my social and emotional
security, my state of mind, my continued existence.
To see how this sense of importance keeps us
so busy and keeps us from noticing what else
there is right here in a moment - the cool
feel of air on the skin, the sound of the fan,
the clear sunlight outside the window, the
little clickety click happening at the end
of my fingers on the keyboard. All of this
can be noticed regardless of the state of mind.
It is possible. You can test this out in your
sitting as well. Even though the mind may seem
more active and crazy as you are sitting, it
may actually be easier to notice what else
is happening - just the movement of the breath
and diaphragm, the feel of body on the chair
or ground, the boundaryless space in 360 degrees.
The state of mind need not interfere with this
at all.

It's nice to have a chance to
explore these things together. I hope you are
well.

T:
Having
never done an extended sitting, I can't say
whether or not it would all have a chance to
"get itself out". But it seems that
my problem is in more than letting stuff surface;
it's also a lack of focus and an inability
to resist getting caught up in the "drivel".
As we both know, the mind is quite capable
of filling every nanosecond of space with useless
thought! At least my mind is, anyway. I'm also
used to reading books and attending classes
that suggest 20-30 minutes of meditation each
day is ideal, so when my mind wanders for 45
minutes I'm inclined to think there's something
wrong.

Working
with this in daily life as you suggested is
one of the reasons why I find Eckhart Tolle's
work so intriguing; he suggests the same thing
in just the way you described. It's a matter
of making space for "Being" to come
through, rather than drowning it out with inane
thoughts all the time. I've tried to do this
but have trouble staying focused on the moment
without my mind taking over (believe it or
not, I'm not ADHD, though it sounds it!). I
think one of the problems is that I'm still
controlled by cultural conditioning. I've noticed
that one of the thoughts that pops up repeatedly
is"What are you doing this for? This isn't
accomplishing anything. You're not saving the
world by listening to birdsong or feeling the
soap and water on your hands as you wash the
dishes. This isn't productive! Planning your
future or worrying about the world is so much
more important than noticing a butterfly or
touching a tabletop." I'm becoming more
and more aware of how trapped I've been by
societal "education", which is good
(the awareness, not the"education"!),
but it's frustrating to know you're in prison
and not know how to get out.

Perhaps
the trouble is that I'm still identifying myself
as the "thinker"rather than the "observer".
One book described meditation or centering
prayer as sitting on the bank of the river
and watching the debris float by on the water.
Losing the moment means you've jumped into
the river and starting floating, clinging onto
the debris. I guess if I've never thought of
myself as anything other than the "thinker",
that might explain why I always get pulled
back to it. Identifying myself as the observer
still feels alien to me right now. I'm hoping
this gets better with practice.

Do you
find that some sort of physical preparation
also helps calm the mind during meditation?
Sometimes I do better after a half-hour of
yoga, but I don't always have that kind of
time.

Well, I'm
not sure I've made any sense here, but I'll
send it off anyway.It is my greatest desire
in life to be reconnected with this deeper
source,and I'm not giving up, no matter how
long it takes.

I hope
you're doing well too...take care.

Jay:
What you say does make sense.
You mentioned the difference between identifying
as the thinker versus identifying as the observer.
Where is the difference? Is there a sharp line
between the thinking that is happening and
the space of observing? Or is it all - including
thinking - happening in one space? This may
take some carefully looking to discern, while
it is actually going on.

I understand what you say about
getting caught up in the thoughts, in which
the whole field of awareness narrows down into
just the roiling daydream. We talked before
about how this is often just the discharge
of imagery in the brain, which needs to happen,
but doesn't have enough opportunity to happen.
It can't happen while I'm trying to switch
lanes in rush hour or while I'm trying to help
a client solve math problems or while I'm trying
to listen to a supervisor's directions. So
it backs up until there is a moment when the
mind doesn't have to focus on something and
then the discharge rushes out. I think we are
both together on this observation.

But it also happens that a pattern
of thought consistently runs because it believes
itself to have survival value. The thought
pattern is neurologically connected to the
vigilant centers of survival. The pattern holds
a sense of importance and urgency, something
in the nervous system keeps arousing it into
consciousness, like a nagging thought at the
back of the mind that hasn't been dealt with,
until finally the conscious thought forms "Did
I turn off the iron?" and with the coming
into consciousness of this thought, the conscious
mind can deal with it, if possible. And if
it doesn't seem possible, then panic can occur
- something critical is happening and I have
no way to deal with it. Interestingly, in panic
the same thoughts may go around and around
over and over with increasing urgency until
one is exhausted.

Let's follow this situation a
little further. What could happen differently?
One could say that if the person relaxed and
stopped thinking so much, a different solution
might come up. It's possible. Or there may
be no solution. But there is another possibility.
Doesn't the whole panic revolve around the
need for the house not to burn down, the survival
of one's home, possessions, etc? This is the
root of the fear - the image of loosing what
is imaged as vital. There is a difference between
the house itself, the business papers, the
computer, the family portraits - and the imagery
of these things in the mind. It is in the imagery
that there is fear of loss. In panic or problem
solving we often don't see the imagery that
is fueling it. In fact the brain probably needs
to keep it out of consciousness for the panic
or problem solving to work. So there may be
a strongly felt resistance to even questioning
what is driving this. But if the imagery can
come to the surface - the picture of all of
my most valuable possessions and my place of
refuge destroyed, with all of the emotions
that go along with it - if this all comes out
fully into the light and is recognized as imagery,
then there is a realization that actually I
don't know how I would really respond to the
fact, as opposed to the image.

One of our dogs was recently
killed by a car. My landlord, who lives on
the property, called me to say they had found
Piggy dead and that they were in the process
of digging a grave for him and for me to come
up to join them if I wanted. At first I couldn't
stand the idea. I imagined seeing Piggy's dead
body and imagined myself imaging how friendly
and loving his face had always been and the
contrast made me want to cry and I didn't want
to stand around and cry in front of everyone.
But then I decided to go and when I looked,
there was a dead body but it did not contain
any of the energy that had been Piggy. The
Piggyness was gone. It was just a stiff body.
It was not how I had imagined it because the
body was not an imagination but a real thing
that could be observerd.

It was also possible to observe
that the brain would start to present the image
of Piggy's happy face and that along with that
image there was deep sorrow. Because this was
observed, the brain refrained from it. It was
seen as not helpful and as a dream that obscured
what was right here - a rigidifying body without
personality. Of course I was sad. But the image-induced
sorrow was not added on top of that.

How would I feel or react if
my house was burned down, if I was standing
in front of it looking at the remains? I don't
know. But it could well be radically different
from how the imagery imagines it. Can I just
live with the not knowing, not anticipating,
not believing the imagery?

Now you mentioned the thought
coming up, as you are trying to be satisfied
with just feeling the dishes and just watching
the butterfly, that this isn't accomplishing
anything important. It's not addressing the
problems of the world. And that this kind of
thinking is a prison for you. So let's examine
this prison very carefully. First of all, it
strikes me that this "prison" is
probably not acting all of the time. Are you
always in prison? Can you examine this not
by answering from memory but by observing moment
to moment?

What about when this prison of
thoughts is acting. What are the problems of
the world, personally and for all of humanity?
There may be certain issues that touch you
more than others. Memory is filled with personal
and universal sorrow, a sorrow that has probably
been accumulated over hundreds of thousands
of years of humanity and has been passed to
each of us, woven into the fabric of memory.
If this sorrow comes up right now, I might
have the response that I should get up and
do at least a little something about this -
maybe call a friend who is depressed or maybe
volunteer for an organization that does good
things. But in sitting still there is a different
possibility of asking about this sorrow that
is felt, of sticking with being completely
in touch with it and with the whole universe
right here, to know what this sorrow is, how
it arises, how it disappears experientially,
with no separation from it. We are constantly
moving away from it. Isn't the thing that has
always been avoided - personally and by human
beings since the beginning - the not moving
away, the entering completely into?

Thought says such and such activity
is more important than feeling a dish in soapy
water. Thought says a dish, a warm sensation
has no connection with remembered issues and
concerns. But if I look at the reality, the
real thing immersed in warm slippery liquid,
which is felt directly along with the sound
of the fan and of the whistling wind rising
outside, the gray sky building up to a thunderous
discharge, the tired eyes facing the computer
screen, with their strained tear ducts, the
movement of the diaphragm with it's cycle of
effort and sighing release, and along with
this a faint consciousness of the sorrows of
humanity, and the clickety clackity of silly
little keys under the dancing fingers.

How is it is as you sit quietly
or watch a butterfly or put a dish away? Is
anything separate? This is an ongoing question.

Krishnamurti said "The observer
is the observed". As you look moment to
moment, is the observer revealed in the dish,
in the soapy water? Is the sorrow, hope, fear,
frustration revealed in the butterfly? If these
questions have reality for you, then simple
presence IS entering into, coming directly
in touch with not just the dish, but also the
human problem, the problems of the human world,
in a way that allows you to plum them directly,
undividedly. Bring the worries, concerns, fears,
despairs, hopes to each moment. Let them be
revealed throughout every little corner of
existence right here with the clickety clack
or the slippery dish - all one universe revealed
more and more deeply right here.

If you are deeply torn between
action and simple presence, do not let go of
this dilemma. Listen to it and bring it to
each observable moment. Is the actor, the motivation,
the goal, reflected in the action? Is the observer
revealed in the observed? Is the world itself
revealed? There is no bottom to this question.
Can you enter into it with nothing held back?

At the beginning of this I referred
to your comment about identifying with the
thinker versus identifying with the observer.
I wonder if what you are thinking about is
taking action, doing something. The thinker,
the doer, the observer. Can you bring it all
to each moment and see if it is reflected in
what is right here, observable, doable, sensable.
Krishnamurti said something like "The
world problem is my problem". The world
problem is right here, every moment, every
place, but sometimes it becomes very quiet
so that a birdsong can be heard or a storm
can sweep through and blow away the dust.

I hope you can find your way
to explore this for yourself.

T:
You make a good point about
what the fear is revolving around - the imagined
survival value of what is at stake when a thought
pattern goes berserk. I find myself thinking
I'm going to fall apart if this or that happens...the
common feeling that if a particular event happens
to us, we'll barely be able to handle it. I
think if we rely on mind alone, instead of
allowing in the presence underneath, that's
an understandable fear. The mind can only handle
so much. The spirit, on the other hand, is
another matter. But I feel as if I've been
so out of touch with that spirit that I don't
even know where it is anymore. That's part
of the reason for wanting to meditate - to
get back in touch with that part of myself.
And let me offer my condolences on the loss
of your dear Piggy. I'm glad you were able
to stay so present in the moment and that it
didn't buckle you at the knees. It's an important
thing to not project into disaster because
one really never knows how one will react until
in that situation. Being a worry-wart, that's
been a tough lesson for me to learn, but it's
one I keep working on.

Regarding the "need"
to take action, I've noticed it's not something
that's coming from a deeper place. It's not
the same feeling that occurs when, for example,
a natural disaster happens and every fiber
in your being wants to do something to help,
just for the reason of helping. This is something
driven by fear...the fear of being "useless",
the need to "earn" the space I take
up on the planet, the need to prove my worth
as a human being. I see so many people trapped
in this need because it's how most of us are
brought up. It's only been in the last few
years that I've recognized this in myself;
I was as lost in it as everyone else before.
Our society somehow accepts the notion of cloistered
nuns and monks (who supposedly spend their
days praying) since they're "religious",
but the rest of us regular folks are supposed
to be busy and productive and do and plan and
think and do some more - it's all about doing
in this society. It's all about externals.
The idea that someone could help the world
by bringing more simple presence to it is beyond
mainstream thought, and still unacceptable.
It's this chain that I'm trying to break. For
now I'm just noticing the thought as it comes
up, not fighting it, letting it be as it is,
then letting it go. I'm beginning to notice
a small difference - I can watch the butterfly
for 2seconds instead of 1! - but it may take
a while. I feel in my bones that this is an
important issue for me. Service and action
can be wonderful things when warranted, but
they need to spring from the right well, and
guilt/duty/obligation/fear is not it.

I've also been picking moments
out of the day where I stop what I'm doing
and simply ask, "If I'm not these thoughts,
who am I?" and I sit quietly and wait.
Sometimes the feeling that comes up is quite
striking. I still have trouble sitting in meditation
for long periods of time so I'm trying to use
any moment I can to bring that presence through.

Well, that's enough for now...I
hope your retreat went well.

Jay:
It's nice to hear from you.
Thanksgiving was a nice break and we just finished
the retreat on Monday. I'm already ready for
a 7 day one in January at Springwater!

You talk about the fear of falling
apart if something happens. Let's take an example
of a lover leaving one. You say the fear says
that I won't be able to handle it. I'm wondering
why the thoughts are running this over and
over. Maybe to find a way to prevent it. Maybe
to prepare myself a little so that if it does
happen, I won't be taken completely by surprise.
Maybe there is a memory of past shocks of this
kind that seemed all the more traumatic because
they crashed in on me without expectation.
Of course, in thought there is no end to this.
There is no security that it won't happen,
no assurance that I've prevented it and no
end of the need to remind myself to be prepared
for it. One antidote to this is to shift the
emphasis to observation, to real information
- talking with the partner, asking if there
are problems, if something they did meant they
were unhappy, etc. But there is always a big
margin of uncertainty and at that point the
brain thinks it needs to take over and review
these things endlessly.

I wonder if it is possible for
us to learn to leave uncertainty as it is.
At a certain point to simply not know what
will happen and leave it there. Maybe that
seems impossible. But it is a fact that no
matter how much we anticipate and plan in thought,
the actual reality of events that happen and
of how we react to them is often significantly
different from what we anticipated. It is also
a fact that what we are remembering and manipulating
in thought is inaccurate, partial, tainted
by associations.

You comment that if we rely only
on thinking, there is a good chance that we
might not be able to handle what happens. What
does it mean to not be able to handle something?
Where is this thought coming from? Is it a
bracing against the memory of past overwhelming
hurt? Often at the time of intense pain it
is impossible to do anything but be totally
with it. If you were hurting now, would you
brace against it or abstain from bracing? When
I consider times when the thought came up for
me "I can't take any more", the fact
is that I usually did end up taking more. The
thought "I can't take any more" is
an expression of what, I wonder. The mind trying
to get a grasp on something that is beyond
thinking? Often we cry out that we don't know
how we can possible go on, how we can possible
stand any more. But we do go on and stand more,
sometimes even opening up to something in a
new and helpful way.

Sometimes the thought that I
can't take any more is a prelude to moving
away from an experience. I can't take any more.
I'm going to go get drunk. I can't take any
more. I'm going to call my lawyer. I can't
take any more. I'm going to eat a whole chocolate
cake. Of course along with this is may be a
sense of giving up.

You talk about wanting to be
in touch with the "spirit" that is
able to more easily move with difficulty. To
trust that presence so that it is not necessary
to think things through over and over. Maybe
to trust that there is something other than
thinking. Let me ask you this. You have talked
about constantly thinking during your meditation.
How do you know you were thinking? Is it not
something other than thought that reveals that
thinking has been taking place? Certainly there
are many moments when we are completely lost
in thinking, but then there is an instant waking
up and realizing that one was lost in thought.
At that instant we are not lost in thought.
Of course then it may begin up again. Other
times there is thinking chatter going on in
the background, or even foreground, but there
is also the breath, the feel of the body, the
sound of the fan, feel of the cool air on the
skin. This is all something other than thought.
So every moment is an opportunity to be in
touch with all of this that is not thought,
regardless of whether there is chatter going
on. It is also possible, and necessary, to
be in touch, to be sensitive to, thoughts as
well. If certain thoughts go around and around,
listening carefully to what is behind them,
to what keeps them going, to how they affect
the body. This helps uncover the thought patterns
that keep us from being more present.

I understand what you are saying
about noticing that the need to take action
is not coming from a deeper place. What is
this world we are trying to help or contribute
to? Usually it is an idea of the world. Most
of the time we don't actually see the world
we are living in right now. Maybe there is
a connection between the desperate need to
help the world in many of us and the fact that
most of our lives we have not even seen this
world we live in and are not separate from.
We have not seen ourselves. We have not seen
the world. These are not different things.

So we can start by becoming interested
in this moment. Maybe when you look at a butterfly,
it is not so important whether you see the
butterfly or see the thoughts that may be clouding
perception. The important thing is the seeing,
not the state of the mind or the state of the
body. These things take care of themselves
in seeing. If you are frustrated with not being
able to enter into this being more deeply,
then see if it is possible to enter thoroughly
into each moment of presence that does present
itself. In this there is no time, no future,
no progress. All of these are forgotten in
this moment alone.

I like what you say about stopping
and asking '"if i'm not these thoughts,
what am I?" Am I the feelings? The physical
sensations? The cool air? The clicking furnace?
Is it possible to simply not know but listen
openly? Is there not also a spaciousness around
and through all of these sensations, sounds,
feelings?

Thanks for keeping in touch and
for your condolences about Piggy. I hope you
have warm and happy holidays! Back
to Writings Menu

9/12/06
- What Motivates Us

What motivates us to sit in meditation?
How does this question strike you? Having written
it here at the computer and now considering
it, it opens a space of listening. In this
space the mind that is full of motivations
is noticeable, the nervous system thoroughly
interwoven with memory of countless experiences,
painful experiences and the desire to protect
against experience like that, pleasant experiences
and the hope to experience them again and the
anxiety that I might not.

There is also the memory of loss,
of close connections that are not here any
more. And the understanding that others close
to me may any time leave or die. There is the
understanding that this body will die, that
it is never very far away from the possibility
of its death, and the feeling that along with
its death the unique story of Jay ends. There
is in the mind sorrow interwoven with past
losses. Listening right now it is clear that
this story of Jay also carries a deep sorrow
for its own loss.

What motivates you to sit quietly
and listen, I wonder. Have you considered this?
Perhaps there is something specific, a question
that has bothered you, a concern that is unanswerable
by thinking. Perhaps it is a dark mass of concern,
nothing specific. The conglomeration of the
sorrow and pain that is a part of human existence
and which lodges itself into the mass of memory.
Perhaps it is the sorrow of the story of me,
wondering if it is possible for there to be
a moment that is not dominated by this sorrow.

Sitting quietly, is it possible
to listen not only to the hum of the fan, the
feel of the cool air on the skin, not only
the passing thoughts flashing through the mind,
not only the chatter but also to listen deeply,
carefully and quietly to this whole mind, this
whole history. To listen deeply into the questions,
the confusion.

Motivation means that which moves
something. What is it that moves this mind?
What stirs it? What does the mind move toward?
To find out, I have to listen motionlessly,
do I not?

A quick answer pops up in the
mind that we move toward wholeness. Looking
closely, however, what is seen is that wholeness
is motionless. It is the open, still, silent
space in which motion happens or doesn’t
happen. Wholeness is already here. The moving
mind cannot move toward wholeness but the moving
mind can be revealed here in silent listening
- along with the sound of the fan, the smell
of smoke in the air.

Is there something in us that
wants to be heard, to be seen, to be able to
move freely? Is there something that is not
thoroughly satisfied? Listening silently, beyond
satisfaction and dissatisfaction, not knowing
but allowing space for anything to emerge,
or for nothing to need to emerge at all.

It is clear, isn’t it,
that this mind of memory is saturated with
motivations, longings, urgings, the need to
heal in many ways. Can this very mind itself
turn into listening silently, motionlessly,
beyond purpose and motivation? It is so helpful
to discover directly for oneself that in this
space, what needs to be revealed may be revealed.
What needs to heal may heal. Not necessarily
immediately. There are concerns that may need
many hours, weeks, years of silent listening
to come into the light. But isn’t it
true that once a concern, a fear, an anxiety
has really been noticed, there is a deep interest
to no longer hide from it, to not say I’m
satisfied to work on this gradually little
by little, to not say I’m satisfied that
somebody has said this will go clear up eventually,
to not say there might be some enlightenment
that will clear up all my problems. The interest
is to open into listening right here –
listening and listening and listening.

The sound of the fan, a burnt
smell, the movement of the body adjusting itself,
cool air, warm eyelids. Like the smoky smell
in the air, the sorrow of the mind of memory
is sensed and let go of. It’s not what
it has appeared to be. What is it? What is
it?Back to Writings Menu

6/28/06
On the purpose of meditative discussion - more
than sharing strategies.

At our last meeting a new participant
shared his perspectives on “how meditation
works”, the tools and strategies that
he has found to be helpful. At one of the breaks
he asked me if this was the purpose of the
group, to pass on strategies that are effective
and transformative. He was assuming that it
was the main purpose of a meditation group
and yet was not hearing other people doing
the same. (I may be reinterpreting what he
was actually saying.)

I considered his point. The strategies,
techniques, approaches, etc., that he talked
about were very valid and I appreciated what
he was saying. The first thing that came to
mind was that it can be helpful to hear such
things and it can also be helpful to have an
opportunity to talk about one’s such
experiences out loud. But ultimately such “advice
sharing” has only limited value, doesn’t
it? Maybe it’s necessary to share experiences
once or twice with a new group, in case one
does have a valuable insight. And maybe it
is helpful to hear what advice or positive
strategies someone else has to offer once or
twice.

Anyone who does meditative work
for a long time probably notices that in deep
listening “strategies” spring up
like mushrooms in response to what is happening
at this moment. There is a great creativity
that allows the body/mind to come up with a
response to the needs of the moment and this
responsiveness often gives rise to a conscious
thought, such as “let it go” or
in a different moment “stick with it”.
If someone is stuck in a habitual reaction
and the body/mind suddenly finds a new way
with it, accompanied by the thought “let
it go” and with a great freeing up of
energy, a sense of relief after a prolonged
difficulty, then afterwards the mind remembers
this thought “let it go,” along
with the physical feelings of letting go that
went with it. “Letting it go” may
become a strategy that the mind refers to over
and over again, giving it as advice to others
and telling them how much it helped me.

The problem is that in the next
moment after the “let it go” experience,
the situation may be very different and in
fact if there is a deep energy of presence
the mind will completely let go of the “let
it go” in order to respond to what is
happening now. This moment may give rise to
the complete opposite – “stick
with it!”.

So the critical thing is not
the content of these past “strategies”
but rather the presence right now to be in
touch with the movements of the body/mind and
with the silence and stillness of the world.
If needed, the body/mind may engage in a brand
new, fresh and appropriate “strategy”
and then return to strategy-less-ness.

The value of meditative discussion
is in listening to a sincere concern that someone
brings up and letting oneself enter into as
my own. This means, doesn’t it, not having
strategies for the concern, leaving them aside
so the concern can be felt, sensed, listened
into, experienced. A person may sit listening
deeply and never say a word during a discussion
and yet this deep listening may bring the light
of awareness to some aspects of the concerns
being talked about. It is ultimately not important
whether someone shares or verbalizes any insights.
It is for each person to listen inside for
themselves to what comes up as others talk
about human concerns.
This kind of listening can be difficult. There
may not be the energy for it. We are used to
wrestling with our own patterns – we
have strategies for that – but to listen
to other human patterns takes new energy. And
yet even if one cannot get “into”
the discussion at first, the fact of being
there, of listening, may give rise to that
energy, either during the discussion or later
on, during the break, the next day, the next
week.

We all love to get out of our
routines and go to some beautiful place where
we don’t have the usual habits running
us, getting exposed to the wide world instead
of our small space. But in fact getting off
to a vacation can, if you think back about
it honestly, be a lot of hassle, with lots
of resistance to leaving the comforts behind
and dealing with new stuff. It seems the same
with listening to others, with listening to
the human condition as others express it. In
retreat it is much easier but even then it
can be challenging. And yet at moments there
is a tremendous, effortless energy present,
without any resistance, that sheds light clearly
and compassionately on the human condition
as well as on the vast, silent, beautiful space
in which human and all existence blossoms and
fades and blossoms and fades.

Does this point to the value
of coming together to talk and listen, challenging
though it may be? This is why we put our energy
together – to make it easier for each
other to do this very necessary work. This
is an act of love.Back to Writings Menu

5/8/06
Gradual Change in Relationship to Fundamental
Change

A topic that has been on my mind
is the relationship between what we can call
gradual change or cultivation on the one hand
and the possibility of radical or fundamental
change, on the other. What do I mean by this?
Let's say someone notices a pattern in themselves
of feeling harsh judgment toward others and
then noticing that this makes one's own life
miserable because other people respond to feeling
judged by being unfriendly or hostile. The
person may practice meditation because it helps
them be less reactive. And, if this works,
then the person may feel that the habit has
changed a little, is a little less troublesome,
and hopes that maybe in the future it will
go away completely. Why - if this is happening
for me - do I hope it will go away in the future?
Is it not because it is still a problem to
some extent, still troubling, still causing
pain and division?

The "cultivation" of
a less reactive frame of mind has had a positive
effect, there is no doubt. But what is the
effect of this image of the process continuing
on into the future until the problem is cured?
It is possible that such thinking puts off
or anesthetizes the fact that there is still
pain and anxiety being created by the habit.
Thinking of the future is one way that the
brain can short circuit present discomfort.
This is the danger of putting too much belief
in gradual cultivation.

Let's look more closely at what
the change or cultivation really was. I walk
into a room at work and someone makes a comment
of a nature that habitually triggers the judgmental
reaction. There is awareness here of the physical
sensations that go along with the reaction
- stomach starting to tighten, jaw clenching,
etc - and awareness of the mind eager to start
its internal "judging" dialogue.
But in this case it is transparent what is
going on and that it is not in any way helpful
or necessary. Maybe this spaciousness of observation
happened more easily because of some previous
meditation time. Or maybe it just happened
because this pattern and the pain that it causes
have been seen - not avoided - again and again.
So at this moment the reaction does not take
hold and perhaps there is a different response
of some kind, maybe an understanding of where
the other person is coming from or a dealing
with a misunderstanding ("I'm sorry. I
didn't realize you were with that client when
I knocked.")

At the moment that the impending
reaction is seen for what it is - unneeded
and inappropriate - it is wholly and thoroughly
dropped. If instead there is an internal wrestling
between "oh, i'd love to tell this guy
off" and "I'm going to try to be
compassionate", there is not this same
clarity. The reaction has already taken hold
to some extent and yet there is also an attempt
by the nervous system to not just go completely
with it. This is what happens most of the time
for us. In this muddy state the thought may
come up "At least I'm doing a little better
with this. If I just keep up the meditation,
try to channel my thoughts into more compassionate
patterns, I will eventually not have to deal
with this confusion. Maybe I'll get enlightened
and be free of this junk."

These are the thoughts that come
up in confusion. This is how thinking thinks
about what it remembers enduring. And thinking
can think up elaborate plans for getting better,
for lifetimes of effort toward an easier state,
or for training itself into infinite patience
and hope for something better. And yet if another
person walks into the room, starts to talk
and the wide open space of listening opens
up, all of this thinking disappears and can
be seen as irrelevant, like the crazy thoughts
in a feverish dream. Thinking, with all of
its ideas of the past and future, plans for
what will happen to me, ends and is replaced
by listening. In listening it is instantly
clear that the person has a criticism of something
I've done, that the judgment reaction tries
to come up for an instant, that it isn't helpful
and instead the realization that yes indeed
I did a poor job on something, and that when
I did the poor job there was an element of
wanting to get back at that person.

This clear seeing does not come
from thinking. It is not an aspect of thinking
or a function of thinking that is trained.
Thinking has a role when clear seeing is operating
- I have to remember who this person is and
what they are talking about and may have to
respond verbally - but this is a clear thinking
that can only happen when there is this open
space of seeing.

So we are really talking about
the possibility of a way of being - of seeing,
of hearing, of responding - that is radically,
fundamentally different from the way of life
that thought sees. We are not talking about
an improvement of the life we know but of a
clear way of seeing life. Seeing life without
knowing it in the usual way, without the filters
of how thinking processes our experience.

When thinking dominates, the
body and mind are filled with memories of the
good and bad that have happened in the past,
with plans for succeeding or failing in the
future, or with a sort of suspended animation
of hope that I shouldn't worry about things
or should trust that things will work out.
In thinking we review our progress and plan
for continued progress. But when thinking is
replaced with looking - silent, still, open,
nothing to defend - all of this complex story,
with all the complex fears, hopes and plans
that go without - is simply gone. Not here.
Not dominating the body/bind. Instead there
is the simple reality of what is, the sound
of the fan, the feel of the body on the chair,
the truth of the moment, with whatever comfort
or discomfort it may hold, with whatever response
it may require or just revealing itself in
stillness. There is an ease of body/mind when
it is not burdened by the complexity of what
has been, could be and should be.

It is important to say that this
timeless moment being described is also not
something that we can try to cultivate. This
is the subtle fine line of clarifying meditative
work. This is why we meet together again and
again and again to continue to look carefully
and clarify the confusion that is the heritage
of the human mind. When openness happens, it
happens on its own. That is, it doesn't happen
because of what the mind is doing. When it
dawns, it sheds light on the state of mind,
and the state of mind dies, for that moment,
and gives way to awareness.

Most of us spend most of our
time in the confusion of thought. But there
is already a radical difference when there
is some awareness of this, as it is happening.
In this state to question what is going on,
to hear the content of what thought is trying
to say and to see if there is validity to it
- is that person really out to get me? Let
me question whether it is as absolutely true
as fearful thinking would have us believe.
Begriming to see the clearly the details of
the thinking and feeling patterns. Fundamentally
questioning the nature of my world view. And
amid all this, to wonder, question, inquire,
listen to see if there really is a moment in
which the entirety of human confusion and suffering
is thoroughly washed away in a simple experiencing
of life as it is in this one, timeless moment.

I just returned from a 7 day
retreat at the Springwater Center in upstate
NY. Toni Packer was at the retreat as a participant,
ie. she did not give talks or meet individually
with people but did participate in the daily
afternoon discussion group. One of the issues
that come up was that of effort. One participant
had given a talk in which he looked back and
realized that all of the effort that he had
made over the years was unnecessary. He was
observing that we put so much energy, and indeed
exhaust ourselves, both in retreat and daily
life, into trying to accomplish goals that
have never really been carefully examined.
Huge amounts of effort are exerted to defend
ourselves, to establish our security, to beat
out competitors, to make ourselves into what
we think we should be. It is also true that
there are moments in which this self defending
drops away and it is clear that nothing needs
to be done. Everything is taken care of in
the unfathomable movement of life itself.

However, Toni pointed out that,
while such moments - which after years of sitting
may be available during much of one's day -
have a quality of effortlessness, meditative
work requires a great deal of energy. I don't
remember exactly how she put it but what sticks
in my mind is that when a certain habit pattern
has been triggered, for example someone has
said something to me in a certain tone of voice
and a habitual reaction of being angry at them,
etc. has been touched, it takes a certain energy
to stay here listening to and feeling that
reaction. It is "easier" to simply
fall into the reaction, letting the thoughts
go around and around about how that person
didn't hear me and doesn't care about me and
how there's nothing I can do about it but they
won't have the satisfaction of my liking them,
if nothing else, and so on and so on. Sometimes
this energy to listen is just not available.
It isn't a matter necessarily of will power
so much as learning gradually that it does
take some energy to stick with seeing.Back to Writings Menu

2/15/2006
- Nature of Retreat and the "Core State"

I also want to say something
about the retreat experience from my own experience
in this recent retreat. Please keep in mind
that this is only one perspective on retreat.
I would probably say completely different things
after other retreats and other people would
say even different things. The sense that I
came away from this retreat with was that there
is a sort of core state of being for me, a
kind of baseline or resting position of the
body/mind and that this core state has many
inadequacies, blind spots. In daily life I
have learned to complement the inadequacies
through various activities, certain kinds of
friends, and learned patterns of thinking and
doing that are built on top of the core state.
To give an example, in the core state for me
one side of the body may be tensed and the
other lacking in energy. When I move in this
state, the movement is not very fluid. In daily
life I have learned certain kinds of dancing
that allow the body to move more fluidly and
I have learned some techniques in walking to
adjust for the imbalance. But when I'm very
tired or overwhelmed, there is a return to
the core state and what I've learned doesn't
help. For another person their core state might
involve a feeling of depression or self-dislike.
They may do some activities that help them
feel more positive but, again, when they are
tired, they revert to the core state.

All of the compensating takes
a great deal of energy because it is always
fighting the core state, like trying to get
a stubborn mule to move.

In retreat, the first two or
three days usually involve a kind of resting
and restoring of vital energy. After that the
body/mind is refreshed, maybe for the first
time in a long time. On days four and five
many habit patterns may come to light. Earlier
on, the body/mind was too tired for these patterns
to wake up. By the fifth and into the sixth
and seventh day the upper level patterns of
the personality have become silent and one
finds oneself in the bedrock of the core state.
This can feel like it is impossible to move
forward or backward or even to step outside
of oneself to see what's going on.

None of these states of body/mind
I've mentioned above detract from awareness.
Awareness is in fact the energy that reveals
them. Awareness is not dependent on a state
of the body or mind. As the available energy
of awareness builds during the retreat - through
the stillness of oneself and the other participants
- it becomes increasingly possible for the
blockages and blind spots of the core state
to be seen, to be touched by the aliveness
that very palpably buzzes through the nervous
system with this rarified atmosphere of awareness,
and for there to be change in the core state,
for what was once a frozen condition to begin
to thaw and flow, to learn to respond to the
world freshly rather than to retreat to a petrified
fortress.

This kind of change is a fundamental
change. After retreat this change begins to
integrate itself into the personality and our
learned ways of relating to the world and each
other.

Again, this is not necessarily
everyone's retreat experience every time. There
are many other important and fundamental aspects
of retreat. But what I've described seems to
have a validity to it that might be helpful
to read about.

V:
I was interested in meditation and have been
doing it successfully over the past 2 months.
I just do meditation for 10 min. I consciously
listen to my breathing in the meditation. Is
there any advanced or next level of meditation?
Is there a website available to know more about
meditations?

Jay:
Hello, V. The essence of meditation is simple,
honest listening to what is. This means what
is happening inside as well as being in touch
with the feel of the air on the skin, the sound
of the fan, the weight of the body.

It is true that there are some
exercises that may be called meditation that
have the goal of developing certain mental
abilities. This is ok for its own purposes
but this is not the same as simple, honest
listening.

It is not easy for us to listen
simply and honestly. If you sit quietly and
notice what the mind is doing, you will start
to see how difficult it is for the mind to
really listen. You will also start to notice
how there is much more interest in controlling
our life and our environment than in simply
listening to it first. This is all deeply programmed
into the brain and nervous system.

If you are lost in daydreaming,
you won't notice anything at all during that
time but when the daydream stops, it will be
clear that there was daydreaming and that now,
for this one instant, there is listening. There
is always the possibility at any moment that
listening will happen if there is an interest
to see oneself honestly.

It may be helpful to reflect
on your life. What is your life? Does it not
mostly consist of reacting to things quickly
and blindly? Of trying to control things that
have not really been carefully seen and considered?
Of fears and worries about our future, about
how other people see us? If you see these things
happening in your daily life, if you see how
much they dominate our life and how exhausting
they are and of how much more pain and difficulty
they cause, you can start to notice more clearly
in your sitting how this arises in the mind,
how the mind works. It is this simple noticing
- just by itself - that is different, more
spacious, more intelligent - than the patterns
that dominate our life. This simple, honest
noticing is the alternative. It is not blind
reaction but is rather quiet interest. It does
not divide the world up into me and what I
hate and what I want but is wholeness itself.
Meditation is the unfolding of the simple,
whole energy of listening.

If you try this and feel that
there is still something else missing, you
can try setting aside more time for this quiet
sitting. It can be helpful to sit for 20 or
30 minutes at a time to give the mind a chance
to quiet and open. You can also do two or more
rounds like that with a little stretching in
between. You can occassionally set aside an
afternoon or evening to devote to this quiet
sitting so that the listening can go deeper.
Finally, it is a wonderful thing to go to an
extended meditation retreat for a few days
or a week. In this long sitting the mind has
a chance to heal deeply from the difficulties
of the world and to open sensitively to the
world of simple presence, which is a radically
different presence than what we usually live
in.

It can be helpful to sit together
with other people, if there is a group that
has an open spirit and respects each person's
need to find their own way. It is also helpful
to have a chance to talk with others who have
devoted a lot of time to this meditative presence
over the years.

If I have not been too clear
about something, or if you have some further
questions, please let me know.